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THE HOODOO 



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No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The Hoodoo 



A Farce in Three Acts 



By 

WALTER BEN HARE 

Author of ''Teddy;' ''The Boy Scouts^' 
''A College Town;' etc. 



NOTE 

This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and with- 
out express permission. The professional stage-rights are, however, 
strictly reserved, and performance by professional actors, given in ad- 
vertised places of amusement and for profit, is forbidden. Persons 
who may wish to produce this play publicly and professionally should 
apply to the author in care of the publishers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1913 



The Hoodoo P535lS 



CHARACTERS 

Brighton Early, about to be married. 

Billy Jackson, the heart breaker. 

Professor Solomon Spiggot, an authority on Egypt. 

HexMACHUS Spiggot, his S071, aged seventeen. 

Mr. Malachi Meek, a lively old gentleman of sixty-nine. 

Mr. Dun, the burglar. 

MiSS Amy Lee, about to be married. 

Mrs. Perrington-Shine, her aunt and Mr. Meek' s daughter. 

Gwendolyn Perrington-Shine, who does Just as mamma says. 

Dodo De Graft, the Dazzling Daisy. 

Mrs. Ima Clinger, a fascinating young widoiv. 

Angelina, her angel child, aged eight. 

Miss Doris Ruffles, Amy s maid of honor. 

Mrs. Semiramis Spiggot, the mother of seven. 

EuPEPSiA Spiggot, her daughter, aged sixteen. 

Miss Longnecker, a public school-teacher. 

Lulu, by name ajid nature. 

Aunt Paradise, the colored cook lady. 

Four Little Spiggots. 

Time. — 1912, in late September. 

Place. — Mrs. Perrington-Shine' s country home about thirty 
minutes from Philadelphia. 

Occasion. — A house party at the Lee-Early wedding. 

Time of Performance. — Two hours and twenty minutes. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act L The lawn at Mrs. Perrington-Shine's country home. 
An Egyptian wadding present. Trouble for the groom. 

Act II. The library at 8:00 p.m. A thief in the house. 
Trouble for Billy Jackson, the susceptible. 

Act III. The same library at 11:00 p.m. Trouble for the 
burglar. Eloped at midnight. 

Note. — With a very little and easy alteration this play 
may be produced with only one interior scene. 




Copyright, 1913, by Walter Ben Hare 

All rights reserved 



©OLD 34332 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Brighton. — A clever, good-looking young man aged about 
twenty-five. Always faultlessly dressed. May wear small 
mustache. To be played in a loud and snappy manner. On 
his first entrance he wears tan boots or puttees, neat riding suit, 
stock collar and tie and dark derby hat. Carries a crop. On 
his entrance to meet Miss Longnecker he wears a gray or 
brown walking suit with hat to match. He wears this costume 
in the second act, but on his first entrance it is concealed by an 
automobile coat, cap, gauntlets and goggles. On his entrance 
after Dodo's scene with Miss Longnecker, he wears conven- 
tional full evening dress with white gloves for dancing. In 
Act III he wears full dress trousers with a dark smoking jacket. 

Billy Jackson. — A handsome young fellow of about twenty- 
two. Bright, cheerful and a trifle over-confident. The lines 
must be perfectly memorized and delivered in a rather quick, 
spontaneous manner with frequent smiles and laughter. Re- 
member Billy is young and very careless. Always well groomed 
and appears in ultra fashionable clothes of a somewhat exag- 
gerated, collegey cut. For first entrance wear a neat riding 
suit with puttees, pink stock, and large Scotch cap. Carries 
crop and wears jasmine or gardenia in buttonhole of coat. 
In Act II he wears full evening dress with a bunch of violets 
on coat. White gloves. In Act III plain business suit, and 
on last entrance a light top coat, derby hat and neat suit-case. 

Professor Spiggot. — A character part. Make up pale with 
rather long black hair, black bushy eyebrows and a suspicion 
of blue indicating close shave but heavy beard. He speaks 
rather slowly and always with precision. Has a characteristic 
of holding both hands pointed together in front of him and 
appears rather absent-minded at times. Frequently raises his 
eyebrows and looks woebegone. In spite of these humorous 
mannerisms, he must maintain a distinct air of dignity and 
calmness. He makes no change in his costume during the 
play. Wears a rather seedy black Prince Albert coat and black 
uncreased trousers, rather short and showing white socks and 
low wide-toed shoes. High cut black vest, pointed collar and 
old-fashioned flat four-in-hand ready-made cravat. On his first 



4 COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

entrance he wears a tall silk hat (rather old-fashioned) and 
carries a very large black umbrella and an old-fashioned black 
suit-case. White cotton gloves for first scene and nose-glasses 
all through the play. 

Hemachus. — Must be played by a very tall man and thin, 
if possible. His costume is similar to his father's, except that 
he wears a wide-rimmed black hat. His speech is always in a 
monotone and he has a peculiar halt in his conversation which 
is full of unnatural pauses like a child reciting his first piece. 
If these suggestions are followed the actor cannot fail to make 
a hit in this part. Remember that his main characteristic is 
timidity and a childhke dependence upon his father. 

Malachi Meek.' — Aged sixty-nine and must look the part. 
White wig, chin whiskers and eyebrows. In Act I he wears a 
neat suit suitable for an old gentleman. In Act II neat Prince 
Albert, etc. Act III dressing-gown. Never forget the halting 
walk, the stoop, and the dim sight of the aged man. Bright 
colored bandanna handkerchief for Act I. 

Dun. — A rather stout man of about thirty-seven. Quick 
movements and a cat-like, quick walk characterize the burglar. 
Make up with plenty of brown and red color. Heavy beard 
indicated. Shaggy black eyebrows. Hair disarranged. Woolen 
shirt, rough cap and corduroy suit somewhat worn. Large 
sack of valuables always in evidence. Electric flash light and 
"jimmy." Always quiet and quick, and when speaking use a 
rough, hoarse, throaty voice. 

Amy. — Aged about nineteen. On first entrance she wears a 
riding habit, derby hat with veil, gauntlets and carries a crop. 
On second entrance she wears a pretty, soft, lingerie dress of 
some delicate color and large garden hat. During Act II she 
wears a rather elaborate dinner gown of pale blue and silver, 
cut en train. Pale blue head-dress. In Act III a long, trailing 
lacy room -robe. 

Mrs. Perrington-Shine, — Aged forty-three. White wig or 
well powdered hair. Very stiff, dignified and stately. Moves 
slowly and speaks rather loudly. Always accustomed to being 
obeyed. In Act I she wears an afternoon toilet of lavender 
with lorgnette fastened to chain of black beads. Use the lor- 
gnette frequently. During Act II she wears a very elaborate 
dinner gown of black, heavily spangled. Long train. Black 
ornaments in hair. Lorgnette and black feather fan. A huge 
bunch of artificial crimson geraniums may be worn on corsage. 

Gwendolyn. — Girlish and rather shy. Very fond of refer- 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 5 

ring to mainma, with the accent on the last syllable. Riding 
habit with gloves, hat and veil for first entrance. Change to 
pretty summer gown and hat for second entrance. In Act li 
she wears an ingenue gown of pale lemon or pink, rather short. 
Hair ornaments and simple floral decoration of a contrasting 
color. To be played very ''young" and unsophisticated. 

Dodo. — A handsome woman of twenty-four. Plenty of self- 
assurance. Play the part with plenty of abandon, but with a 
deep touch of emotion in the third act. Dodo does as she 
pleases and has always treated men as her slaves. Plenty of 
shoulder shrugs and Frenchy gestures and a slight tendency to 
be " stagey " on all occasions. In Act I she wears tan and red 
walking dress, large red hat trimmed in poppies. Bright red 
parasol and large red hand-bag. Carries poodle during first 
scene. In Act II she wears a very elaborate costume with 
train. Immense head-dress and rather garisli effect of trinmiing 
and jewelry. In the original production the character made 
a big hit with a drapery of orange sateen trimmed in black 
jet and with a large yellow and black bird on her left shoulder. 
On her last entrance she wears an elaborate opera cloak. 
Heavy make-up. 

Mrs. Clinger. — Similar to Amy, but somewhat more ma- 
ture in style and more vivid in coloring. In the original pro- 
duction Mrs. Clinger (who was a blonde) wore a grass-green 
satin with over drapery of wiiite silk and wreath of green leaves 
in hair. Carries large fan in Act II. Play the part rather 
sentimentally, but at no time forgetting her position in the best 
society. 

Angelina. — Aged eight. Bright, quick and saucy. A pro- 
nounced type of the enfaiite gate. Short skirts and hair 
arranged with huge ribbon bows. Red and white suit in 
Act I, and party dress of pink in Act II. Lines to be spoken 
loudly and learned letter perfect. 

Doris. — Aged eighteen. Pretty ingenue costumes similar to 
Gwendolyn's. Her hair may be down in curls. For last 
entrance wear a neat traveling suit, hat and coat and carry 
suit-case. 

Mrs. Spiggot. — Long black dress, cut perfectly plain. Old- 
fashioned black bonnet. Old-fashioned cloak of black. Nose- 
glasses. Black grip and umbrella. No colors and no trim- 
ming. Black silk mitts. 

EuPEPSlA. — Aged sixteen, and dressed exactly like her 
mamma. Face pale. 



6 COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Miss Longnecker. — Flowered summer dress, in Act I, with 
bright ribbons. Large flower-garden hat. Gaudy parasol. 
Nose-glasses. In Act II she wears an evening gown cut 
en train, but rather severe. Quantities of many colored 
•flowers. Large head-dress of many colors. Large red feather 
fan. 

Lulu. — In Act I conventional maid's costume of black with 
white linen collar and cuffs. Neat white apron and cap. In 
Act II gray dress, ankle length. Dainty white lace apron and 
cap trimmed in long pink streamers. Very coy and chic. 
Quick movements, and speaks rather loudly and in a confident 
manner. 

Aunt Paradise. — An old mahogany-colored mammy. Use 
dark-brown grease paint. Large red bandanna on head. Dark 
calico dress, the skirts starched very stiff and standing out like 
a balloon. Crosses kerchief on breast and large gingham apron. 
In Act II yellow turban, bright calico dress, trimmed in lace 
and bright ribbons. Green sash. Much cheap jewelry. Large 
earrings. Fancy white apron, very, very small and dainty. 
Walks with a decided limp and stands with her hands on her 
hips. 

Four Little Spiggots. — Small children dressed like Pro- 
fessor and Mrs. Spiggot. No colors worn. 



PROPERTIES 

Act I. — Grass mats and palms to dress stage for garden 
scene. Also natural boughs of trees tacked in wings and over- 
hanging stage gives a good effect. Natural vines on wall with 
artificial yellow roses. Large tree with circular seat, garden 
table with two garden chairs, lawn seat surrounded by parlor 
screen. Dust cloth for Lulu. White gauze fan on stage. 
Bandanna for Meek. Lorgnette for Mrs. Shine. Basket of 
daisies for Doris. Chair on stage with opening in back large 
enough to admit the head of Billy. Umbrellas for Solomon, 
Semiramis, Hemachus, Eupepsia and the Four Spiggots. 
Scarab tie-pin for Solomon. Bag with letters for Dodo. 
White poodle dog for Dodo. Telegram for Billy. 

Act II. — Library furniture. Practical fireplace with opening 
large enough for Dun to enter. Leather couch and large easy 
chair. Potted palm. Candelabrum and clock on mantel. 
Lantern and sack and suit-case for Dun. Wine decanter and 
glasses on table. Box of cigars for Lulu. Auto horn off 
stage l. Lavender stocking for Aunt Paradise, also telegram. 
Brooch for Dun to put in Billy's pocket. Two one-dollar 
bills for Brighton. Writing material on desk. Check-book 
for Brighton. Lady's hat and cloak for Semiramis to tear. 
Blue light from window c. for moonlight effect. Red light 
from fireplace for final tableau. 

Act III. — No change. 



The Hoodoo 



ACT I 

SCENE. — A Imvn. Set house, rather elaborate, with steps 
leading to porch, dow7i l. Garden backitig. Wall runs 
across stage at back. Arched entrance i?i wall at c. 
Wood ivings R. and l. ivith 7iatural boughs attached. Vines 
on wall with yello7v paper roses. Laivn seat down l. sur- 
rounded by screen. Large tree down R. with circular seat. 
( This tree may be omitted and a botver of palms tvith seat 
for two arranged.^ Garden table with tzvo garde?! chairs 
up R. c. Lights all on. Bright music, 7nay be a weddi7ig 
march, to take up the cu7-tai7i. 

( Curtai7i rises on e77tpty stage. After a slight pause Lulu 
e7iters from the house dow7i l. She stands on the steps 
with her arms oti her hips and vieivs the sce7ie i7i a dis- 
gusted 77ianner.') 

Lulu. Just look at this lawn ! It's not enough for 'em to 
be mussin' up the entire house a-spoonin' in every room of it 
and makin' extra work for me, but the}^ got to come out here 
and look at the moon ! (^Co)nes doiuti c.) It's got so that I 
have to give this front lawn as much attention as the parlors. 
I hate wedding parties anyway. (^Dusts.) They think that 
just because you get an extra tip or two that you can do the 
work of twenty. (^Notices screen at L.) Carried out the parlor 
screen ! It's a pity that some folks can't spoon enough in 
the house. {Disgustedly.) And look how they've hid them- 
selves in ! Must have been afraid some one would 'a' saw 'em. 
It couldn't have been the bridal couple, for they don't care. 
It was Billy Jackson and that widow. Or maybe it was Billy 
Jackson and Gwendolyn — or Billy Jackson and Doris. (Dusts 
at L.) He's a wise guy all right, all right — and keeps the three 
of 'em guessing who's going to land the prize. And I'll bet 



10 THE HOODOO 

that all the time he's engaged to some girl away from here. 
Yes, it was him. Here's some cigarette stubs and a little pink 
chiffon bow. That's from the widow. (^Loudly,') No wonder 
he wanted the screen around him ! (^Crosses to r.) And.; 
this is the bridal bower. No, here's some more of Billy Jack-i 
son's cigarette stubs — and a white gauze fan. That's Gwendo-j 
lyn's. {Puts fan in dress. ^ That must have been later in the 
evening. {Arranges pillows on seat at r.) 

(Aunt Paradise appears on steps. ") 

Aunt P. (with arms on hips). Is dey all back from deir 
ride yet ? 

Lulu. Not yet. 

Aunt P. How many more's comin' to-day, honey ? 

Lulu {sittiftg at r., ifidolently). Well, there's Mr. and 
Mrs. Spiggot. He's a professor somewhere in Missouri. 

Aunt P. {grunting). Humph ! Poor relations. 

{Limps dow7i steps to c.) 

Lulu. And they'll bring a whole bunch of little Spiggots. 

Aunt P. {throwing up her hands in horror). More chill- 
uns ! Great Day ob de Trumpet ! We's got one child here 
already and she's mos' done upsot de whole house. If one 
little Angel can cause so much devilment, what's gwine to 
happen when we gits a whole house full ob little Spiggots? 
{Sits L.) Is dey any more comin' ? 

Lulu. Yes, there's a cowboy coming from Texas. 

Aunt P. A cowboy ! Great Day ob de Trumpet ! I'm 
gwine to gib notice sure. I simply ain't gwine to cook fo' no 
cowboy. No mam ! 

Lulu. He's a friend of Mr. Early's. His picture is a 
dream and he's worth a lot of money. Me for Mr. Cowboy. 

Aunt P. Do you reckon dat he'll be liberal wid any ob 
dat money? 

Lulu. You bet he will. You can count on a ten from 
him sure. 

Aunt P. {sloivly s7?iiling). I guess I'll stay. Who else is 
comin' ? 

Lulu. I think that's all. Oh, no — there's Miss Long- 
necker. 

Aunt P. Miss Longnecker. How come dey invite her to 
dis weddin' ? 

Lulu. Oh, she's Amy's old school-teacher. 



THE HOODOO II 

Aunt P. {looking at screen). What's dat parlor screen 
doiii' out here in de front yard? 

Lulu. Why, Paradise, don't you know what that's out 
here for ? Last night every one came out to see the moon, and 
when you look at the moon you've got to look in couples, and 
when you look in couples you need screens. / know. 

Aunt P. I neber yet saw a weddin' dat wasn't de startin'- 
point ob 'bout half a dozen other weddin's. Dat Mistah Billy 
Jackson sure is a flirtatious man, he sure is. 

Lulu. That's the truth, Paradise; he's got three strings to 
his bow. 

Aunt P. {counti?tg on fingers). Miss Gwendolyn an' Miss 
Doris, an' who else ? 

Lulu. Why, the widow, of course. 

Aunt P. Who dat ? 

Lulu. Mrs. Clinger. Little Angel's mamma. 

Aunt P. You don't tell me. Is she settin' her cap for 
him, too? 

Lulu. Yes, her widow's cap. 

Aunt P. And which you reckon he's in love with ? 

Lulu. In love? {Laughs.) Billy Jackson doesn't know 
what love means. 

Aunt P. I'll sure be glad when all dis yere weddin' doings 
is ober. It's too much excitement fo' old Aunt Paradise. 

(Angelina appears 07i steps.) 

Ang. {cotning down c). Well, you two are taking it easy, 
I must say. 

Lulu (rising quickly). Little girls should be seen and not 
heard. 

Ang. {pertly). Tell it to Sweeny. Say, Aunt Paradise, 
where' s the bunch ? 

Aunt P. {rising with difficulty). Where's de what? 

Ang. The bunch. Maw and Mr. Billy and the bride and 
groom and the whole side-show. 

Lulu {dusting at r.). They've gone riding. 

Ang. And they didn't take me. They sneaked off, that's 
what they did. Sent me down to the post-ofifice to mail some 
letters. That's a nice way to treat me. I won't be the ring- 
bearer in their old wedding now, so I won't. I don't care if 
the old ring don't never get bored. 

Aunt P. Lulu, when you-all get done cleanin' come down 
in de kitchen, I got something to tell you. {Limps to porch.) 



12 . THE HOODOO 

Lulu (at r.). Something about B-i-1-l-y J-a-c-k-s-o-n ? 

{Spells name.) 

Ang. {at c). Billy Jackson. I guess I can spell Billy 
Jackson, if I am only eight. Go on and tell her all your old 
"secrets about Billy Jackson. 1 know something worth two of 
that. 

Aunt P. Dat chile gwine to upsot dis yere whole house. 
She sure is. 

Ang. Want to know what I know, Aunt Paradise ? Well, 
I'll tell you, I saw you give those httle piccaninnies that fried 
chicken and that angel cake last night. 

Aunt P. Hush your talk, you ! Dat chile sure gwine to 
end bad, she sure is ! I neber gib no piccaninnies nolhin'. 
De idea ! Why, chile, Fs a sustainin' member of de Daughters 
of Zion, I is ! You-all better hush your talk, or I'll hab de 
ole conjure- woman take you away in her big, black bag, and 
bury you deep — in de grabeyard. 

Ang. Skidoo to you. Tell those fairy-tales to Sweeny. 

Aunt P. Great Day ob de Trumpet ! Ain* she scand* 
lous ? Dat chile sure gwine to end bad. She sure is. 

YExit into house at L. muttering. 

Lulu. You ought to be ashamed to worry old Aunt Para- 
dise so. 

Ang. Is that so? Well, you look out that I don't worry 
you. 

Lulu {loftily). You don't know anything about me. 

Ang. Oh, don't I? {Ifnitates \^vu5's voice.) ''Mr. Jack- 
son, how dare you kiss me ! " I guess that'll hold you for a 
while. 

Lulu {much confused). What — when — did you hear that? 

Ang. Yesterday in the hall, and if Mr. Jackson don't give me 
a big box of chocolates, and fifty cents, and a new hair-ribbon 
of Nile green, I'll tell everybody what I heard and what I saw. 

Lulu {coining close to her). I'd like to shake you. 

K\^o. {proudly). You forget yourself. And besides — you're 
afraid. 

Lulu. You'd better keep your eyes on your gay mamma, 
instead of on other people. 

Ang. I'll tell mamma what you said. 

Lulu {losing her temper and speaking loudly). If you dare 
to, I'll 

Enter Mr. Malachi M^ERYif from c. 



THE HOODOO 1^ 

Mal. {coming doivii c. and speaking to Ang. who is r. c). 
Ah, good-morning, little lady. 

Ang. {politely). Good-morning, Uncle Malachi. 

Mal. {smiling). Have you a little kiss for me this morn- 
ing? 

Ang. Sure I have. Have you a little quarter for me ? 

Mal. {shortly). No, I haven't. I like little girls to kiss 
me for myself alone. 

Ang. Try Lulu there ; I ain't that kind. {Skips to porch.) 
Lulu's had more experience than I have. {Laughs.) Morn- 
ing, Uncle Malachi. {Runs off h.) 

Lulu {singing as she arra?iges pillows dow7i r.). "Noth- 
ing's worth while but dreams of you. Dearie, my dearie ! " 

Mal. {straightening up, looking at Lulu, putting o?i specs ^ 
looking again, taking out bandanna handkerchief and flirti7ig it 
at her quickly, then looking around to see if any one is looking. 
Lulu sings all through this, but glances at him now arid then 
coquettishly). Hem ! Lovely morning. 

Lulu. It is so. {Sifigs.) 

If you love me don't be bashful, 

Take my little hand in thine. 
If you want a kiss, just ask me, 

1 am sure I won't decline. 

Mal. {?naking a funny slide to her at r.). Good-morning, 
my dear. 

Lulu {affecting surprise). Why, it's Mr. Meek. 

Mal. And how is little Lulu-Wulu this morning? 

Lulu {dropping eyes basi fully). Oh, Mr. Meek! 

Mal. I had so much trouble in tying my necktie this morn- 
ing. Does it look all right ? 

Lulu. You need a little more on this side. 

{Arranges it ; he slips his arm around her waist.) 

Mal. Fix it pretty, little Lulu. 

Lulu. Why, Mr. Meek, look at your arm. 

Mal. Can't. I'm looking at your eyes. 

{Starts to kiss her.) 

(Mrs. Perrington-Shine appears on porch.) 

Mrs. P.-S. {looking through lorgnette). Why, father ! I'm 
surprised. 



14 THE HOODOO 

Mal. Yes, I'm somewhat surprised myself. 
Mrs. P.-S. Lulu, you may go into the house. I'll speak 
to you later. {^Comes down to c.) 

Lulu. He just asked me to tie his tie. 

( Crosses back stage to porch. ) 

Mrs. P.-S. {severely). That will do. 

Lulu. Yes'm. [^Exit in house, tossing her head. 

Mrs. P.-S. {at c). Now, father, what was the meaning of 
that? 

Mal. {^nonchalantly). Simplest thing in the world. She 
was just tying my tie. 

Mrs. P.-S. You've been flirting with the servants. 

Mal. Now, my dear Rosabella 

Mrs. P.-S. I shall have to discharge that girl. She's a 
designing creature. {Loudly.) And to think it has come to 
this. You are old enough to be her grandfather. 

Mal. {at r.). That's just it. She's the most innocent girl 
in the world. 

Mrs. P.-S. {sarcastically). She's about as innocent as you 
are. 

Mal. Now, Rosabella 

Mrs. P.-S. Don't speak to me. My own father actually 
flirting ! 

Mal. The poor little thing was only doing me a favor. 

Mrs. P.-S. I'll discharge her at once. 

Mal. You'll do nothing of the sort ! 

Mrs. P.-S. Father ! You forget yourself. 

Mal. It was just her sympathetic nature. 

{Laughter outside.) 

Mrs. P.-S. They're coming. AVe' 11 settle this matter later. 
Mal. Yes, the later the belter. 

{Down R. with Mrs. P.-S.) 

Enter Billy Jackson, Gwendolyn Perrington-Shine and 
Mrs. Ima Clinger /?-^w c, laughing and chatting. 

Billy {comifig down r. c. close to Mrs. P.-S., but not seeing 
her. He is speaki?ig to Gwen., zvho comes doivn c). And 
the joke of the whole thing was that she knew he was a married 
man all the time. {Laughs loudly.) 



THE HOODOO I5 

GwEN. («^/ ^^^/;/^ Mrs. P.-S.). Oh, Mr. Jackson, you are 

so funny ! 

Mrs. P.-S. {jnajestically). Mr. Jackson ! 

Billy (Jiis face changing from smiles to sobriety^ he turns 
slowly arid faces Mrs. P.-S.j. Good-morning, Mrs. Shine. 

Mrs. P.-S. Mrs. Perrington-Shine, please! 

Billy. Excuse me. Mrs. Perri7igton-^\\\XiQ, 

(Mal. has crossed up c. and is conversing with Mrs. C. /;/ 
pantomime. ) 

Mrs. P.-S. {severely'). That must have been a very hu- 
morous story that you were telHng my daughter, Mr. Jackson. 

GwEN. {iiervously~). Yes, indeed, mamma, it was. It was 
about 

Mrs. P.-S. I was speaking to Mr. Jackson, Gwendolyn. 

Billy. Yes, it was a great story. It was about a barber 
named 

Mrs. P.-S. I trust that it was a w^n?/ story, Mr. Jackson. 

Billy {puzzled). Moral? Oh, yes — {draivling) yes! 
There was a bully moral to it. In fact that was the best thing 
about it. 

Mrs. P.-S. Gwendolyn, I think you had better dress for 
lunch. We are expecting some other guests this morning". 

GwEN. {meekly). Yes, mamma. 

Mrs. P.-S. {crossing to porch). Father! 

Mal. {up c). Yes, Rosabella ? 

Mrs. P.-S. It's time for you to take your tonic. This raw 
morning air doesn't agree with you, and you know it. 

(Billy and Gwen. busily engaged dow7t r. c. talking.) 

Mal. {annoyed). I'll be there in a moment, 

Mrs. C. Don't let me keep you, dear Mr. Meek. 

Mrs. P.-S. Father! 

Mal. Coming. {Crosses to l. c. /// stage.) You'll ex- 
cuse me, Mrs. Clinger ? 

Mrs. C. Of course. We'll resume our conversation in the 
conservatory right after lunch. 

Mal. {delightedly). Right after lunch. In the conserva- 
tory. 

Mrs. P.-S. Gwendolyn ! 

GwEN. Coming, mamma. {Crosses to porch.) 

Mrs. P.-S. {aside to Gwen.). You know my feeling re- 



l6 THE HOODOO 

garding Mr. Jackson. I hope 1 won't have to speak to you 
again. 

GwEN. But he's so interesting, and tells such funny stories. 

Mrs. P.-S. {scornfully^. A mere clerk. (Pause.) I can't 
see why Brighton ever invited him to become one of the wed- 
ding party. {Sees Mal. talking to Mrs. C.) Father ! 

Mal. Yes, Rosabella, I'm coming. {Crosses to porch.') 

Mrs. P.-S. (loudly). Don't forget that you are sixty-nine. 

\_Exit in house. 

GwEN. {oji steps). Good-bye, Mr. Jackson. 

Billy. See you at lunch. 

(Mal. comes back to Mrs. C.) 

GwEN. {pausifig at door bashfully). I enjoyed your story 
so much. 

Billy. Wait till you hear the second chapter. 

Mrs. P.-S. {i7i house). Gwendolyn ! 

GwEN. Yes, mamma. {Runs ifi L.J 

Mrs. C. {to Mal.). Don't forget the conservatory. 

{Laughs.) 

Mal, Right after lunch. Over the river. 

{Waves his hand gaily to Mrs. C., and starts toward steps 
rapidly. Sudden twinge of rheumatism causes him to 
pause in agony. Then exit slowly, limping up steps and 
off I..) 

Mrs. C. {coming down l. c). Pm afraid Mr. Meek some- 
times forgets that he is sixty- nine. 

Billy {meeting her at c). Some ladies are fascinating 
enough to make Methusalem forget his age. 

Mrs. C. {playfully striking him with crop). Flatterer. 

Billy. Pve been waiting all morning to tell you that. 

Mrs. C. But you were too busy with Miss Perrington-Shine, 
with tlie accent on the Shine. 

Billy. She's a cute little kid, isn't she? 

Mrs. C. Yes, and so interesting. I love to hear her say, 
'' Yes, mamma ! " Does she ever say anything else, Mr. Jack- 
son ? 

Billy. Oh, put a poison label on that Mister; Fm just 
plain Billy. 

Mrs. C. {coyly). Well— Billy, then. 



THE HOODOO I7 

Enter Brighton Early and Miss Amy 'Lee from c. They 
come slowly down r., arm in arm. 

Billy {af l.). Hello, here's the twin cupids. Got here at 
last, did you ? Took you half an hour to walk from the stable 
here. 

Amy {down r.). I'm afraid I must go in, Bright. Isn't it 
time to dress, Ima ? 

Mrs. C. (down l.). I suppose so. You excuse me, won't 
you {slight pause'), Billy ? 

Bri. {down R. c). Billy ! Hello, she calls him Billy ! 

Mrs. C. What's the difference ? Aren't we all in the same 
wedding party ? 

Billy. You needn't think that you're the whole show just 
because you are the groom. 

Bri. I'm satisfied. I wouldn't trade places with any man 
on earth. 

Amy {giving his arm a playful little shake'). Bright, don't 
be silly ! 

Mrs. C. {going on steps). Coine, Amy, let's leave them to 
their cigarettes. See you after lunch {slight pause), Billy. 

Billy. Sure thing. In the conservatory? 

Mrs. C. Oh, I forgot the conservatory. That's reserved 
for sixty-nine. {Laughs a?id exits into house l.) 

Bri. {crossing ivith Amy to steps). Hurry, dear; I'll wait 
right here. 

Amy. It will take me only ten mhiutes. 

(Billy crosses to r. i e.) 

Bri. It will seem an hour. 
Amy. Silly boy ! 

{Blows a kiss at Bri., and exits into house l.) 

Billy {down r.). I caught that one. Bright. {Sits.) 

Bri. Yes, you did! {Comes to r. i e., and sits.) Billy, 
old man, do you know that I'm the happiest fellow in the world ? 
Tiie wide, wide world. 

Billy {sprawling and smoking cigarette). That's what they 
all say. 

Bri. They? Who? 

Billy. Oh, you know, those who are engaged and all that 
sort of thing. 

Bri. {etithitsiastically). Every time I see Amy I find some- 



1 8 THE HOODOO 

thing new to adore about her. I never knew what it meant to 
love a girl till now. 

Billy. Cut the comedy and remember whom you're talk- 
ing to. 

Bri. I mean real serious love. {Lightly.) Oh, of course 
there have been other girls 

Billy. Yes, there have been other girls. 

Brl But never another one like Amy. Amy Lee. Why, 
her very name's poetry. 

Billy {to audiefice). And he used to be the star full-back 
of the state. 

Bri. And her style. Billy, did you ever notice Amy's 
style? I always dit/ s-dore that tender, wistful style. 

Billy. 1 remember when you adored quite another style. 

Bri. Oh, what's the use of talking about old times? 

Billy. Dodo was a pretty little thing, wasn't she? 

Bri. You're right, Billy, she was, and she had the dreamiest 
eyes and the freshest lips — shaped like a Cupid's bow — and say, 
Billy, do you remember how her hair used to curl over her 
ears ? And the walks down by the lake, and the little sup- 
pers after the theatre, and the cute, careless little ways of her 
when she was on the stage. (Sighs.') Ah, Do was some girl ! 
(Quickly cha?iges tone.) But nothing to be compared to Amy. 
You see, I'm going to marry Amy. 

Billy. How soft you used to be about Dodo. You used to 
say that your love was like an ocean with a kiss on every wave. 

Bri. Did I say that ? 

Billy. You know you did. 

Bri. That's pretty good. I'll have to hand it to Amy. 

Billy. I wonder if Do is still in St. Paul ? 

Bri. I suppose so. The last I heard she was playing leads 
with the Cummerson Stock. The matinee girls rave over her. 

Billy. Ever hear from her ? 

Bri. Of course not. That's a nice question to put to me. 

Billy. I beg your pardon. But when one's love is like an 
ocean with a kiss on every wave — you know 

Bri. {setitentiously). Even the ocean creeps out at low 
tide. 

Billy. And the poor little waves snuggle down and go to 
sleep. 

Bri. Don't be so sentimental. (Rises.) We'd better dress 
for lunch. 

Billy (rising). What time is it? 



THE HOODOO IQ 

Bri. (^feeling in his pockef). By Jove ! 

Billy. What is it ? 

Brl My watch. It's gone. I know I had it this morning. 

{Searches pockets and looks around stage?) 

Billy {searching). Probably you lost it while riding. 
. Bri. I'll have the groom look for it. 

Billy. You don't suppose any one touched you for it, do 
you ? 

Bri. {hesitatingly). No. 

Billy. Blamed queer. You know I missed my pearl crop 
this morning. 

Bri. That's so. Funny, isn't it? 

Billy. Well, not so blamed funny. 

Bri, No, but it's a coincidence. I'll have Riley saddle the 
filly and see if I can find it in the road. Come along? 

{Goes up L.) 

Billy. No, I'll wait here. 

Bri. I'd hate to lose that watch. \^Exit C, to L. 

Billy. Poor old Bright, he'll lose his head next. No, he 
can't do that. He's lost it already. A man about to be mar- 
ried doesn't know whether he's alive or dead. Poor old 
Bright ! 

Enter Miss Doris Ruffles, c, with basket full of daisies. 

Dor. {coming down c, humming a song ; she sees Billy). 
Hello, Billy. 

Billy {comi?tg to her). Hello, Angel Cake. How's the 
headache ? 

Dor. I didn't have a headache. That was a bluff. I 
didn't care to ride. 

Billy. What ! Didn't care to ride — with me? 

Dor. With you and Gwendolyn and Mrs. Clinger and 
Amy. This wedding party has so many girls in it that it looks 
like a Suffragettes' convention. 

Billy. The more the merrier. 

Dor. Wait till some more men come. Then you'll find 
that there are other birdies on Luella's hat. 

Billy. I hope that it won't make any difference between 
us, no matter how many men come. 

Dor. Wait and see. You've been mighty attentive to 



20 THE HOODOO 

Gwendolyn, to say nothing of Mrs. Clinger. {Musmgly.') 
Mrs. Ima Clinger. Ima Clinger — pretty name, isn't it.f* 

Billy. Now, Doris, you know I think of no one else but 
you. 

Dor. I know you do. {He tries to take her hand.) That 
is "when I'm here. {Shakes her forefinger at him.) Billy Jack- 
son, you're a flirt. Prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not 
guilty ? 

Billy {holding up left ha?id). Not guilty, yer honor. 

Dor. {turnifig aivay). Not that it makes any difference to 
me. Of course not. I'm used to flirts. But poor little Gwen- 
dolyn and poor little Mrs. Clinger. It's lucky for us that this 
party lasts only three days. 

Billy. That's the way with every good thing in life. But 
you're going to let me come to Columbus and see you, aren't 
you? 

Dor. Columbus ! That shows that you are a flirt. It's 
Mrs. Clinger who hves in Columbus. I live in Scranton. 

Billy {quickly). Of course. I meant Scranton. Every 
time I say Columbus, I mean Scranton. They're so much alike. 
High Street and Lackawanna Avenue, you know. I always did 
get those two towns mixed up. 

Dor. Yes. And sometimes you get the girls mixed up, too. 

Billy. Doris, that's unkind. 

Dor. {holding basket up). See what I've been doing this 
morning while you were riding. {She pulls open- backed chair 
to c, and kneeling beside it arranges daisies.) I've been gath- 
ering daisies. 

Billy {kneeling back of chair, facing audience. Note: The 
garden chair used must have an opening i?i back large enough 
to admit Billy's head). You gathered me weeks ago. 

Dor. {with her face close to back of chair). But you aren't 
a daisy. 

Billy {putting his head through chair^s back). No, but 
you gathered me just the same. 

Dor. {plucking petals'). He loves me. He loves me not. 
He loves me ! {Sighs.) 

Billy {with his face close to hers). He loves you. 

Dor. He loves me not. Loves me. Not. Loves me. 
Not. He loves me, and here's the last one. He loves me not. 
Oh, Billy, he loves me not. 

Billy {taking her ha?id). Don't you believe it. He loves 
you belter than anything else in the whole world. 



THE HOODOO 21 

{About to kiss her.^ 
Better Br I., qidck/y, from C. 
Bri. {seeing theni). Oh, 1 beg your pardon. • 
{Rushes into house L.) 

Dor. (rising quickly). Oh, tliat was Mr. Early. What 
will he think? 

Billy {rising with chair around neck). So it was. But 
we don't care what he thinks, do we? 

{Advances toward her at r.) 

Dor. {laughing). Why, Mr. Jackson, you look like you 
were in the pillory. 

Billy {removing chair). That's just like Bright. Got to 
come butting in every time I talk to a girl. 

Dor. Has he ever caught you before? 

Billy. Now, you know he hasn't. (Comes close to her.) 
You know that I think that you {Takes her hand.) 

Enter Ang. , from house. She runs to c 

Ang. Oh, I saw you, I saw you, I saw you. And I'm 
going to tell. 

Dor. {running to steps). Nowsee what you've done. Billy 
Jackson, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. 

{Runs into house at l.) 

Billy {sternly). Angelina, come here. 

Ang. (ate). Won't do it. 

Billy {at r.). You're a nice little girl, ain't you? 

Ang. Yes, I am. And I'm a zvise little girl,' too. 

Billy {anxiously). You're not going to tell any one what 
you saw just now, are you ? 

Ang. Oh, ain't I ? 

Billy. Not if you're a wise little girl. You see I know the 
land where the chocolate drops grow. 

Ang. {conii?ig to him). Now you're talking business. 

Billy. And I'll bring you a big box right^after lunch, 

Ang. How big a box ? 

Billy. Oh, a great big box. 

Ang. Five pounds ? 



22 THE HOODOO 

Billy. Well, maybe. 

Ang. It's got to be five pounds. And Bittersweets. 

Billy (^sighing). Very well, little Angel. 

Ang. Then 1 won't tell what I saw just now. 

Billy. That's a good little girl. 

Amg. But I saw something yesterday. 

Billy {alarmed'). What did you see? 

Ang. You know. You and Lulu the maid. And she is a 
Lulu, too. 

Billy. For goodness' sakes, don't say anything about that, 
and I'll buy you the whole candy store. 

Ang. I heard her in the hall. She said : " Mr. Jackson, 
don't you dare to kiss me ! " 

Billy. You must have been mistaken. 

Ang. {^positively'). I'm never mistaken. I want a new 
hair-ribbon, too. Nile green. 

Billy. I'll get you one. 

Ang. And a sash. 

Billy. And a sash. 

Ang. Say, if I were you I'd catch just one girl and keep 
her. 

Billy. Oh, would you? 

Ang. Yes, and I'd get the one with the most money. 

Billy. Out of the mouths of babes. 

Ang. I ain't a babe. I'm nearly nine. (Crosses fo C.) 1 
must go now. I won't tell on you. Honest, I won't. 

Billy. Angelina, what pretty eyes you've got. 

Ang. {draiviiig herself up). That'll do now, Mr. Jackson. 
Don't you try to flirt with me. I already have a steady. 
{Runs to porch.) And he don't 'low no foolishness. 

{Runs into house l.) 

Billy {taking c). Ain't she the angel child ? I'll have to 
wire dad for more money if I stay around her much longer. 
It's too bad folks don't leave their angels at home when they 
go to wedding parties. 

Enter Aunt V.,from house. She limps down to c. 

Aunt P. Mistah Jackson, Mistah Early done sent me out 
heah to find you an' ax you would you please go over to de 
depott an' meet de one o'clock train. Some ob de jests is 
comin' in an' he say he busy wif Miss Amy. 

Billy. All right, aunty, I'll go right over. 



THE HOODOO 23 

Aunt P. (Jwldin^ out her hand for a tip). 'Scuse me, 
Mislah Jackson, ain't you done forgot something? 

Billy. Why, yes. I came near forgetting my hat. Much 
obliged, Aunt Paradise. 

{^Takes hat from table and exits c. /^ l.) 

Aunt P. {looking very disgusted). Ain't dat exasperatin' ? 
Some folks dat 1 knows ain't got de manners ob a watermelon. 
(^Hobbles to porch.) Dey sure ain't, and dat's de Lawd's truf. 

\_Exit into house at l. 

Enter Miss Longnecker, c. She minces down c. 

Miss L. I wonder if I'm too early for luncheon. I just met 
the sweetest man going down the lane, and he looked right at 
me. {Giggles.) 1 suppose he was one of the wedding party. 
And he was all dressed up in a riding suit. And he looked 
right at me. I certainly am a lucky, lucky girl to be invited 
to the Meek house. Folks always say it's such good luck to 
be in a wedding party. To think of little Amy Lee going lo be 
married. A mere infant. It wasn't so very long ago that I 
was teaching her the A, B, C's in the public school. And now 
she is to be a bride to-morrow. (Sighs.) Heigh-ho ! 

(Amy a?id Bri. appear on porch in morning costumes.) 

Amy (rufmifig doivn c). Why, it's Miss Longnecker ! 

Miss L. Amy ! (She kisses her.) 

Amy. So glad to have you over to luncheon. 

Miss L. {holding Amy's hands and looking at her). So 
this is the little bride. 

Amy {merrily). Yes, and here's the little groom. Bright, 
come here. I want you to know one of my dearest friends. 
Miss Longnecker, this is Mr. Early. Mr. Brighton Early. 

Miss L. {shaking hands with him). Deligiited, Mr. Early. 
And congratulations, but we never can forgive you for taking 
our little Amy away from us. 

Bri. Lucky fellow, ain't I ? 

Miss L. You certainly are. 

Amy. You'll make me blush in a minute. Miss Long- 
necker is my old school-teacher, dear. 

Miss L. Yes. 

Bri. And not so very old either. 

Miss L. {giggling delightedly). Oh, Mr. Early. 



24 THE HOODOO 

Amy. We received your kind remembrance this morning. 
It was so dear of you and just wliat we wanted; wasn't it, 
Bright ? 

Bri. Yes, indeed. 

Miss L. I thought you would hke it. Something useful as 
well as ornamental. I always give useful wedding presents. 

Bri. I'm sure you do. 

Miss L. Did it come through the mail all right? I'm a 
little bit doubtful of this parcel post affair. 

Bri. Oh, yes, it came all right. Not cracked or chipped 
at all. 

Miss L. Cracked or chipped? I'm afraid I don't under- 
stand. 

Bri. I mean that it arrived all right. 

Miss L. I don't believe that you know what I sent. 

Amy. Oh, yes, we do. It was so appropriate. And it will 
look lovely in our little flat. 

Miss L. Look lovely in your flat ? 

Bri. She means that it is becoming to her style. 

Miss L. Becoming to her style ? 

Amy. And you were such a dear to think of anything so 
dainty. 

Miss L. (^frigidly). My wedding present was a new patent 
lawn-mower. 

Bri. Yes, we knew. And we were both delighted. Every 
time I mow our lawn, I'll remember you. 

Miss L. {aside to Amy). Isn't he a dear ! 

Amy. You must come in and meet tlie rest of the party. 

Miss L. Wiio is to be the best man ? 

Amy. Billy Jackson. Haven't you ever met Billy? 

Miss L. Not yet, but I think I've seen him. I met a young 
man going down the lane just now — and he looked right at me. 

Brl That's Billy. 

Miss L. He looked perfectly charming. 

Bri. Yes, that's a little way that Billy has. 

Miss L. And I fancy I saw another one of the wedding 
guests at the post-office this morning. She was very pretty, 
and wore a tan and red walking dress with a gorgeous red hat 
trimmed in poppies. 

Amy. I don't think she belongs here. 

Miss L. It was a kind of an actressy hat, and begging my 
pardon, she came over to me and asked me if I could tell her 
where Mr. Early was stopping. She looked like an actress. 



THE HOODOO 25 

Bri. {alarmed). An actress ! 

Miss L. She carried a little white poodle trimmed with 
green ribbons. 

Bki. {aside). Wliite poodle ! It's Dodo ! Great heaven ! 

Miss L. 1 told her how to find the place. Probably she's 
a friend of yours, Mr. Early. 

Bri. I don't recognize the description. 

Amy. I was sure you wouldn't. Possibly she is an agent. 
But, Miss Longnecker, come with me and I'll show you your 
room. It's nearly time for lunch. {^Crosses to porch.) 

Miss L. Thank you. {^Follows her to porch and theti 
turns.) I'll see you at lunch, Mr. Early. \^Exit in house. 

Amy {blowing a kiss). Bye-bye, Bright. [Exit. 

Bri. a little white poodle trimmed with green ribbons — 
and looks actressy. {Sinks in chair.) It's Dodo. And she's 
here. There's going to be a rumpus, 1 know there is. I can 
feel it in my bones. {March music as entrance for Pro- 
fessor Solomon Spiggot.) If Dodo ever meets Amy and 
Mrs. Perrington-Shine — oh, Great Scott ! And I thought that 
this was going to be the happiest week of my life. 

{Music louder. Enter from l. u. e., Sol. and Hemachus 
Spiggot. Both are tall and slender and are dressed in 
rather seedy Prince Alberts and black trousers, rather 
short. White socks and low wide-toed shoes. Rather 
oldfashiofied black vests cut high, pointed collars and 
seedy black four-in-hand ties. Sol. wears old silk hat 
and carries large black umbrella and cheap black suit- 
case. Hem. wears a wide-ri?7inted black hat, carries 
umbrella and suit-case like his father^ s. Both wear 
white cotton gloves. Sol. wears fiose-glasses. After en- 
trance there is a pause and they stand faci?ig the audience 
i?i c, ?iot seeing Bri.) 

Hem. {after pause ; Note: Hem. ahvays speaks in fnono- 
tone with unnatural pauses — like a child reciting his first 
piece). Father — is this the place we are seeking? 

Sol. {looking at house). Yes, I fancy so. 

Hem. But, father — there are no signs of festivity, nor is 
the house decorated for the nuptials. 

Sol. This is the place. 

{Takes a few steps down c. and sees Bri.) 
Bri. {meeting Sol. at c). Surely it is? 



26 THE HOODOO 

Sol. Yes, it is. 

Bri. {shaki?ig hands warmly). My dear Cousin Solomon. 

Sol. Brighton, Brighton, I am overjoyed. 

{Shakes hands warmly. End music.) 

Brl And I knew you at once. Just think, it's been 
eighteen years since I saw you. 

Sol. I would have known you anywhere. Although you 
were only five when last we met. 

Bri. {shaking hands again). Dear old Cousin Solomon. 
Do you know, cousin, that you are the only relative I have in 
the world ? No father, no mother, no sisters, no brothers, no 
uncles, no aunts, just dear old Cousin Solomon. 

{Shakes hands warmly.') 

Sol. {feeling his hand that Brl shook). This greeting 
overwhelms me. 

Hem. {who during this sce?ie has been standing at back 
watching, notu comes down to his father^ s right). Father — is 
this my kinsman ? 

Sol. Yes. Brighton, this is my son, my eldest. Little 
Hemachus. Hemachus Brighton Early Spiggot. Named after 
you. 

Bri. All but the Spiggot. {Shakes hands with Hem.) 
I'm glad to meet you, Cousin Hemachus; your father is my 
dearest friend. 

Hem. I reciprocate the greeting, Cousin Early. 

Brl And your wife, Mrs. Spiggot, where is she ? {To Sol.) 

Sol. Ah, what a disappointment ! She is not here. Poor 
Semiramis — how she would have enjoyed this trip. 

Brl Poor Semiramis? She's not — {pausing) departed, is 
she? 

Sol. Oh, no. Her health is very good. She intended to 
accompany me, but only yesterday little Cheops, our sixth little 
Spiggot, developed symptoms of fever. Poor Semiramis was 
forced to abandon the journey and attend to little Cheops. 

Brl Now, isn't that too bad ? I've never seen Mrs. Spiggot 
— nor little Cheops either. 

Sol. He's such a bright lad, is little Cheops. Only six, 
Cousin Brighton, and as intelligent as his father. 

Hem. Father — I beg your pardon, father — but little brother 
Cheops is nearly seven. It is Rameses who is six. 



THE HOODOO 2/ 

Sot.. Yes, so it is. 

Bri. There seems to be quite a collection of little Spiggois. 

Sol. Seven, Cousin Brighton. Hemachus here is tlie eld- 
est. Then comes Eupepsia, our eldest daughter, then Isis and 
Osiris, our twins, delightful cliildren, I assure you. And tlien 
after the twins — who comes after the twins, Hemachus? 

Hem. Ptolemy, father. 

Sol. Oh, yes — I had forgotten Ptolemy. And Rameses 
and Cheops make the seven. And what a blessing they are to 
us, Cousin Brighton. 

Brl Yes, so 1 should imagine. Seven. 

Sol. Mrs. Spiggot sent her regards and best wishes to the 
happy nuptial pair. As for myself I am delighted, cousin, that 
you are about to go over to the large majority. The bourne 
from which no traveler returns, the 

Hem. Father — I beg your pardon, father, but Cousin Early 
isn't going to depart this life. He is about to be married. 

Sol. Thank you, little Hemachus, that fact slipped my 
mind entirely. 

Brl And wait till you see her, cousin. She's a bird. An 
angel. 

Sol. A bird ? 

Hem. An angel ? But, father 



Brl She's got the Gibson girl backed off the fence, and 
we're going to be the happiest little pair of honeymooners that 
ever saw Niagara. 

Sol. I rejoice with you. Your happiness is my happiness. 
I can never repay your many kindnesses to me, Cousin Brighton. 
You advanced me the necessary funds for my marriage, you 
paid for my European trip, you procured me my appointment 
in the university. All that I have I owe to you. Semiraniis 
and the seven came from you 

Brl Not on your life. Why shouldn't I have been liberal 
with you ? You were my only living relative. 

Sol. I will never forget your kindness. And if ever I can 
repay 



Bri. Now, don't speak of that 



Sol. But I must speak of it. You have overwhelmed me 
with gratitude. It is for your sake that I am here mingling 
for the first time in many years with a festive throng. For 
your sake I shall be blithe and gay. 

Brl That's right. Butt right in and have a good time. 
I want you to forget your Egyptology and your university and 



28 THE HOODOO 

be one of us for a few days. We'll take a run over to the city 
and I'll take my last wild fling on the Great White Way. I'll 
bet I can show you something that you never saw in Egypt. 

Hem. But, father 

Bki, Yes, little Rollo, you may go along too. You'll have 
the time of your young life. 

Sol. I am very glad to hear that you are to be married, 
cousin. Semiramis and myself are overjoyed that you are 
about to settle down. 

Bri. Yes, I have to settle down in order to settle up. 

Sol. I have heard that the young lady is an heiress. 

Brl Right. And she's a dream as well. 

Sol. Semiramis and myself were rather worried the last 
time we heard that you were to be married. 

Bri. That was two years ago. 

Sol. The lady was an actress or a performer, I believe. 

Bkl Yes, Dodo De Graft, the Dazzling Daisy. But I 
haven't heard from her for nearly two years. She's probably 
dazzling some one else now. 

Sol. I have ventured to bring you a Httle gift, Cousin 
Brighton. 

Brl {shaking his hands'). Thank you, cousin. But it 
wasn't necessary. 

Sol. I believe it is the custom. It is an ancient scarab. 

Brl a scarab? What's a scarab? 

Sol. An Egyptian beetle. This is a mummified insect 
taken from a tomb of the Pharaohs. 

{Takes black box from pocket and gives it to Brl) 

Brl {taking out the pin). Oh, it's a beauty. 

Sol. That little fellow is over four thousand years old. 

Brl Doesn't look his age, does he? 

Sol. There are only seven in existence. {Proudly.) The 
Boston Art Museum offered me three thousand dollars for that 
scarab last year. 

Brl And you are giving it to me for a wedding present. 
{Shakes his hands wannly.) Dear old Cousin Solomon. 

S(JL. This is no ordinary scarab. There is a mysterious 
story connected with that beetle. It was sacred to the Egyp- 
tian Deity. 

Brl I like Egyptian Deities myself {Takes cigarette case 
from pocket.) Have one ? 

Sol. Thank you, no. That scarab is the largest one ever 



THE HOODOO 2() 

known. And it is said to have the peculiar property of bring- 
ing to its owner the favor of tlie great god Osiris. 

Bri. And you are giving it to me. {Shakes hands warmly.') 
Dear old Cousin Solomon ! 

Sol. It must be buried, however, for twenty-four hours. 

Bri. Buried? What for? 

Sol. When Kaa — that is the name of the scarab, Kaa — 
when Kaa passes into strange hands it is best to bury him for 
twenty-four hours in the ground, his native element. 

Brl But why ? 

Sol. The natural law of recompense. The favor of Osiris 
is yours as long as you keep the sacred scarab, but for twenty- 
four hours you must suffer the displeasure of all the other gods. 

Brl You don't believe all this Arabian Night's tale, do 
you ? 

Sol. Who knows ? When I became the owner of the sacred 
Kaa I followed instructions and buried it for twenty-four hours. 
Then I dug it up and upon my word, Cousin Brighton, I've 
enjoyed the favor of the great Osiris ever since. 

Brl (putting the pin i?i his tie). Well, old Kaa makes a 
good-looking scarf-pin, at any rate. 

Hem. Father — can you not persuade Cousin Brighton to 
bury the scarab ? 

Brl What's the use? What can all the Egyptian gods do 
to harm me? I'm the happiest fellow on earth. Going to be 
married in three days. I'll wear the scarab for a while just to 
see if there's anything in the theory. 

Sol. I have often wanted to see its efficacy tested myself. 

Brl I'll wear it as an experiment. I don't fear the wrath 
of old Sirus. 

Enter Lulu from house. She comes down c. 

Lulu. Mr. Early, the special messenger from Tiffany's has 
just brought the three necklaces for you to make a selection. 
Brl Is he in the house ? 
Lulu {carelessly). Yes, sir. 

(Turns and sees Hem. ; flirts zvith him.) 

Brl Cousin Solomon, if you will excuse me for a few 
minutes I'll have Lulu show you to your room. Take them to 
the corner room next to mine. Lulu. \^Exit in house. 

Lulu. Yes, sir. (Crosses to Hem., touches him on the 
arm, droops eyes.) Walk this way, sir. (Crosses to porch.) 



30 THE HOODOO 

Hem. {keeping his eyes on Lulu, folloivs her and bumps 
into Sol.). Why, father ! 

Sol, You are forgetting your grip, little Hemachus. 

Lulu. This way, Mr. — Mr. What is the name? 

Sol. {seriously^. Spiggot, Solomon Spiggot. This is my 
eldest son, little Hemachus. 

Lulu. I'm pleased to meet you, Hem. Walk this way. 

\^Exit^ loftily. 

He:i\l I can't walk that way, but I'll do my best. Father — 
she called me Hem ! {Stands staring after Lulu.) 

Sol. Come, my son. \_Exit into house. 

Hem. And she called me Hem. She called me Hem. 

(^Falls up the steps and exits in house. Bright music for 
Dodo De Graft's e7itrance ; swells loud as she enters 
and ends whefi she speaks.) 

Enter Dodo, c. ; she pauses at back and looks aroimd. 

Dodo. The chauffeur said that this was the place, and it 
has the look. American respectability plus New England archi- 
tecture plus Hackensack furnishing. Poor Brighton ! What 
a life he'll lead — here. (^Co?nes down c.) There's no one 
around. (^Laughter in house.) Ah, the wedding party ! And 
I'm the uninvited guest. Come, Dodo, your little bomb is all 
ready to explode. Poor old Brighton ; won't he be glad to 
see little Dodo! (^Sarcastically.) WonU he? It's a shame 
to be cast for the heavy adventuress in their little domestic 
comedy, but business is business — and I'm too healthy to live 
on air. 

Enter Aunt P. from l. i e. 

Aunt P. 'Scuse me, lady, is you lookin' fo' somebody? 

Dodo. Yes ; I was just about to ring. 

Aunt P. Is you one ob de wedding jests ? 

Dodo. I haven't quite decided yet. I want to see Mr. 
Early. 

Aunt P. Yes'm. Come in. I'll denounce you to him. 

Dodo {taking a dollar bill from her purse). I wonder if 
you couldn't arrange to have him come out here? 

Aunt P. Who, Mr. Early? Why, lady, he's de bride- 
groom. 

Dodo {iivirling bill). Yes, I know. Suppose you go to 



THE HOODOO 3 1 

him privately and say lliat one of his old friends is out here, 
and wants to speak to him. Do you think you could do that ? 

Aunt P. {f'eacht7ig for the bill). Yes'm, I knows I could. 

Dodo. Privately, remember. Don't let any one else know. 

Aunt P. Yes'm. I'll do it so privately dat I won't know 
it myself. 

Dodo. That's right. {Gives her the bill.') 

Aunt P. Jes' take a seat over there in de arbor, an' I'll 
hab him here quicker'n a telephone. \_Exit into house. 

Dodo {crossing l. to arbor and looking at it). Quite a 
little nest for a pair of turtle doves. I wonder if he calls her 
his little hyacinth bud — I wonder if he tells her that his love is 
like an ocean with a kiss on every wave. Brighton was such a 
poetical boy. (Sits.) 

Efiter GwEN. afid Billy, from r. i e., arm in arm. 

GwEN. But mamma says that I mustn't go out walking 
with you any more. 

Billy. Yes, I know — but Pm here only for such a short 
time. In three days the wedding will be over, and then I'll 
have to go away. 

(They cross to c. Dodo rises and listens unobserved.) 

GwEN. And maybe I won't see you again for ages and 
ages. Mamma is so particular. 

Billy {as they stroll up r.). Well, we'd better make hay 
while the sun shines. You do like me, don't you ? 

GwEN. I'm afraid I do. But mamma says 

Billy. Yes, I know that, but mamma is in the house. 

GwEN. I'm afraid she'll miss me. 

Billy. I hope she'll miss us both. A miss is as good as a 
mile. 

GwEN. Mrs. Clinger will miss us too. 

Billy. Now, Gwen ! 

GwEN. But you do like me the best, don't you ? 

(They stroll off ^s^. u. E.) 

Dodo. It's Billy Jackson, and still at his old tricks. That 
man would flirt with his own grandmother and fall in love with 
a wax figure. 

Ejiter Bri. from house. 



32 THE HOOTDOO 

Bri. Paradise said some one wanteci (o see me. 

Dodo (crossing to him ivith extended hand). Brighton ! 

Bri. Dodo I I knew it, I knew it ! ( Weakly.) 

DoDO. You didn't invite me to your wedding, but I was 
sure that I'd be welcome anyway — so 1 came without an invita- 
tion. Aren't you glad to see me ? 

Bri. (very sadly). Oh, yes, I'm glad. I'm overjoyed. 

Dodo. Aren't you going to ask me in to lunch? 

Bri. Come down to business, Dodo. What do you want 
here ? 

Dod6. What do I want ? I want an ocean of love with a 
kiss on every wave. 

Bri. I don't know what you are talking about. 

Dodo. Oh, don't you? Well, I have a certain little pack- 
age of letters right here in my shopping-bag that might refresh 
your memory. 

Bri. (aghast). My letters ! Give them to me. 

Dodo. That's exactly what I came all the way from St. Paul 
for. 

Bri. Then you won't cut up rough — you will g\\Q me the 
letters ? 

DoDO. Don't talk like a schoolboy ! Don't you think that 
I have any self-respect, any pride ? 

Bri. Of course. But what are you going to do? 

DoDO. You have treated me shamefully, brutally. You 
won a trusting maiden's heart, then tossed it aside like a 
broken plaything. 

Bri. This isn't melodrama. 

Dodo. No, my sense of eternal humor has saved the situa- 
tion. I found myself deserted by my fiance — 1 laughed. You 
left me, and for two long years I never heard a word from you 
— I laughed. I saw your wedding announcement in the papers 
last week — I laughed. 

Bri. May I ask the cause of your merriment ? 

DoDO. Certainly. You are marrying the orphan heiress of 
Larrimore Lee. I slave day and night to make eighty per. 
Why do I laugh ? Because my days of drudgery are over. 
No more stock work in St. Paul — no more two shows a week 
and two performances a day. I'm going to be a New York 
star. I've struck a bonanza. 

Bri. And the bonanza is? 

DoDO. Right here. This bundle of letters. You said, 
"Come down to business." I'll take you at your word. I 



THE HOODOO 33 

want thirty thousand dollars from you before this wedding 
takes place. 

Bri. Thirty thousand dollars? Absurd. You've played 
in melodrama so long that everything seems like a play to you. 
I won't give you thirty cents. 

Dodo. Oh, yes, you will. 

Bri. Not on your life. 

Dodo. For if you don't 



{Slight pause. Dodo smiles.) 

Bri. Well, if I don't 

Dodo. There will be no wedding. 

Bri. Don't you know that you are making yourself liable to 
an action for blackmail ? 

Dodo. Blackmail? Such an ugly word. Not at all, Mr. 
Early. I have seventeen separate and distinct proposals of 
marriage all written by you. Seventeen ! Don't think for a 
moment that you are talking to Little Lorraine the Deacon's 
Daughter. 

Bri. No, I don't. Not for a moment. 

Dodo. You've heard my terms. What about it? 

Bri. I won't be blackmailed. 

Dodo. You know Mrs. Perrington-Shine's objection to any 
newspaper notoriety. Miss Lee, your fiancee, would break off 
this match in a moment if I sued you for a breach of promise. 

Bri. Do, you won't do that ! 

Dodo. Thirty thousand dollars is a mere bagatelle to you. 
To me it means fame and fortune. I have a lawyer with me in 
this very town. Now take your choice — thirty thousand dol- 
lars and freedom or a suit for twice that amount. And you 
know how I can play on the sympathies of a jury. 

Bri. I haven't got thirty thousand dollars. 

Dodo. Oh, yes you have. Your account in the Second 
National shows a balance of over fifty thousand. 

Bri. I'll tell you what I'll do. You go to the hotel and 
I'll come over this afternoon and talk to you about it. 

Dodo. I'll not do it. I came to the wedding. 

Bri. But you can't stay here. 

Dodo. Why not ? 

Bri. Because — because — well, because you can't. 

Dodo. A lovely reason. 

Bri. {taking her ami). Come now, Do, be reasonable. 



34 



THE HOODOO 



Dodo. I am reasonable. Thirty thousand dollars is rea- 
sonable. 

Bri. Let me take you to the hotel. 

{He tries to lead her out. She refuses to go.') 

Enter Sol. from house. 

Sol. Cousin Brighton ! I hope I'm not intruding. 

Brl Not at all. 

DOdo (<z/r.). Introduce me to your friend. 

Brl Cousin, this is a friend of mine. 

Sol. (crossing and shaking hands with her). I am de- 
lighted. 

Dodo. Thanks. You look it. 

Sol. {standing by Dodo). Is this your bonny little bride, 
Brighton ? 

Brl Heavens, 710. 

Enter Mrs. Y.-^. front house. She comes down c. 

Mrs. P.-S. Brighton, lunch is about to be served. Ah, 
more guests ? Friends of yours, Brighton ? 

(Amy appears on porch.) 

Brl Yes, this is my cousin, Professor Spiggot. Professor, 
this is Mrs. Shine. 

Mrs. P.-S. Mrs. Perrington-'$i\\\XiQ. 
Amy {coming dowti l. c). Bright ! 
Brl This is my fiancee, Miss Lee. 
Dodo {coming a little forward). Ah-hem, 

{Clears her throat.) 

Brl {in despair). And this is 

Mrs. P.-S. Your wife, Professor? How do you do, Mrs. 
Spiggot? {Crosses to Dodo and shakes hafids.) 

Sol. But my wife, Mrs. Spiggot 

Brl Has just arrived. {To Amy.) My dear, let me pre- 
sent you to my oldest friend. Professor Spiggot and Mrs. Spig- 
got. (Dodo, Mrs. P.-S., and kM\ form a little group chat- 
ting at R. Brl grasps Sol.'s arm and pulls him doivn c.) 
For my sake, cousin. I'm in an awful scrape. For my sake. 
This is Mrs. Spiggot. 

Sol. But 1 fear, Cousin Brighton 

Brl It will all come out right in the end. 

Sol. I sincerely trust so. 



THE HOODOO 35 

Mrs. P.-S. Come into the house. You must be tired after 
your long journey. {Ladies cross to porch.) You came all 
the way from Missouri, didn't you } 

Dodo. Oh, I'm from Missouri, all right. ' 

\_Exeunt ladies y in house. 

Sol. I cannot permit this deception to continue, cousin. 

Bri. For goodness' sakes don't desert me now. A friend in 
need is a friend indeed. 

Sol. But what would Semiramis say? 

Brl Semiramis ? 

SoL. My wife. My ;-(?(?/ wife. 

Bri. She's miles away. She'll never know anything 
about it. 

Sol. But my conscience isn't clear. 

Brl Neither is mine. Don't let that worry you. 

Sol. But I fail to see the necessity for this impersonation. 

Brl This woman is trying to blackmail me. 

Sol. Hand her over to the police. 

Brl Never. That's just what she wants. You see she's 
an actress I used to know in St. Paul. I was rather daffy about 
her in those days, and wrote her some letters. 

Sol. Ah, ha ! That's very grave, Brighton, very, very 
grave ! 

Brl Don't I know it? Now, after two years she hears 
about my approaching wedding and turns up and threatens to 
sue me. She wants — thirty thousand dollars. 

Sol. But why did you introduce her as my wife? 

Brl I had to introduce her somehow. And your wife 
didn't come. What's the difference, anyhow? It's only for a 
day or two. 

Sol. But what would Semiramis say ? 

Brl Semiramis needn't know anything about your other 
wife. 

Sol. Great heavens ! My other wife. Brighton, I am not 
a Mormon, 

Enter Hem. from house. He crosses to Sol., and shakes his 
fiji^er at him. 

Hem. {reprovingly). Father — father ! 
Sol. Yes, little Hemachus ? 

Hem. I beg your pardon, father, but how many mothers 
have I ? 

Sol. Hemachus! The idea! What would Semiramis say ? 



36 THE HOODOO 

Hem. That lady in the house insists that she is your wife. 
She says, and all the others say, that she is Mrs. Spiggot. 
Father, I am very, very much perplexed. How many wives 
have you, father ? 

Soi,. Only one, little Hemachus. 

Bri. Only one, of course. That lady in the house is a lit- 
tle ( Taps his forehead. ) 

Hem. (^not under standmg'). A little ? ( Taps his forehead. ) 

Sol. {assuring Hem.). Yes, little Hemachus, she's a lit- 
tle ( Taps forehead . ) 

Hem. Father, I do not comprehend what a little {bus.) 
means. 

Bri. She's off her trolley, just a little woozy up-stairs, bats 
in her belfry. 

Hem. Father, what is Cousin Brighton saying? 

Sol. He means that the lady in the house is nan co7npos 
mentis. 

Hem. {giving a sigh of relief). Oh, then she's not your 
wife? 

Bri. Of course not — and never was. She's non mentis, er 
— what he said ! 

Hem. Father, forgive me. I hope that I have not acted with 
undue haste. I fear you will reproach me for what I have done. 

Sol. What have you done ? 

Hem. I sent a telegram to mamma saying that you had 
another wife here. Father, have I done wrongly ? 

Sol. Goodness ! What will Semiramis say ? 

Bri. {aghast). Sent a telegram to your mamma ! Have 
you done wrongly? Cousin Solomon, drop him in the river — 
and tie a stone around his neck. 

Mal. {in the house). Early, Early! Where is he? 
Thieves, thieves ! We've been robbed. {Enter on porch very 
much excited.) Oh, Brighton, something awful has happened. 
You know the necklaces the jeweler sent for examination ? 

Brl Yes, yes — what's happened to them ? 

Mal. Gone ! Stolen from the safe in my room. There's 
a thief in the house. 

Bri. Great heavens ! Not those Tiffany necklaces ! 

Mal. All three of 'em, I put 'em in the safe not an hour 
ago. 

Bri. Did you lock the safe ? 

Mal. Of course I did. Securely. I knew those necklaces 
were worth a fortune. 



THE HOODOO 37 

Bri. Twelve thousand dollars ! 
Sol. {at r. with Hem.). Cousin, this is horrible. 
Bri. It's a nightmare. 

Mal. I locked the safe and went to dress for lunch. 
Bri. Who knew the combination ? 

Mal. No one. Not a soul in the house except myself. 
And the safe is a Patent Detroit. 
Bri. Twelve thousand dollars ! 

Enter Y)ot>o from house — she comes down to Bri. at r. c. 

Dodo. Come, now. Bright. I've been bluffed long enough. 
I want that thirty thousand — and I want it quickly. 

Mal. Thirty thousand ! What does she mean? {At l.) 

Bri. Oh, she's {Taps forehead^) 

Sol. She's {Taps forehead.^ 

Hem. Yes, she's decidedly {Taps forehead.^ 

DoDO. Is that so? Well, I'll show you ! I'll expose the 
whole outfit. This man 

{Bright music played softly. ) 

Enter Billy and Gwen. from l. u. e. Billy conies down 
l. c. to Bri. who is c. 

Billy. Telegram for you. Bright. I got it at the office. 

Bri. I'm almost afraid to open it. {Tears it open.) Great 
heavens ! {Sitiks in chair staring at telegram.) 

Billy. What is it ? 

Bri. '^ Second National Bank suspends payment. Your 
deposit thought to be worthless." Tlmt's the last straw. I'm 
choking. {He puts hand to throat and feels the scarab pin in 
tie. Slowly takes pin out and looks at it.) The scarab ! I'm 
hoodooed. {Throws pin on. floor and tramps on it.) Now, 
we'll see if my luck will change. 

{Music sioells to loud. All watch him curiously. Sol. and 
Hem. rtr/ R. DoDO ^/ R. c. Bri., c. Billy, l. c. Mal. 
at L. Gwen. up l.) 

CURTAIN 

Second Curtain 

( Characters all off. E?iter Aunt P. from l. u. e. ; she 
comes down litnping to c, sees the pin, picks it up and 
pins it on her waist and exits into house, limping,) 



ACT II 

SCENE. — The library. Boxed interior with windoii) in rear 
and two entrances at r. and o?ie at L. Fireplace ^ practical 
and large enough to admit Mr. Dun up l. In front of this 
is a large library table with chairs around it and reading- 
lamp, magazines, decanter and glasses on it. Large leather 
couch down l. Large leather chair dowfi r. Library desk 
ivith chair betiveen the two e?itrances at r. Chairs and 
palms ad lib. Ghostly music to take up the curtain. 

{The curtain rises atid discloses an empty stage in total dark- 
ness. There is a proiiounced pause. Then a light is seen 
from an electric flash or a dark-lantern i?i the fireplace.) 

Enter Dun from the fireplace carrying a large sack. He 
moves stealthily and flashes the light at intervals. 

Dun {crossing to table, l. ; flashing light around). Hm ! 
Candlestick. Wonder if it's plated. No, it's the real thing. 
{Examines candelabra with lafitern.) I need that for my 
drawing-room. {Slips candelabra into sack.) Look at the 
bric-a-brac. {Crosses to mantel- shelf and takes ornatnents 
and puts them in his sack.) It ain't much, but every little bit 
helps. {Turns from inantel and bumps ifito a chair, knocking 
it over and dropping his sack with much clatter.) Damn ! 

{Grabs sack and limps to fireplace and exits in fire- 
place.) 

Aunt P. {peeking in r., with a lighted candle in her hand). 
Who dere ? Who is you ? Answer me, heah me, answer me ! 
Mmm ! I'm so skeered dat I'm white in de face. {Crosses 
to table and turns on electric light. Lights all tip.) I knows 
I heard somethin', and dere's a-gwine to be trouble, kase I feels 
it floatin*. {Sees chair overturned.) Great day in de mawnin' ! 
Burglums done been here as sure as you're bo'n. Burglums or 
ghosteses or hants ! {Straightens chair and arranges room.) 
Dis here colored lady is a-gwine to git her another job, kase dis 
house is gittin' too skurious-like for me to reside in. It sure 
is. I don't objec' to live people 'round de house, but when it 

38 



^BBa^ gpmm smmmm 



THE HOODOO 39 

comes to hants an' gliosteses, dat's when I'm a-gwine to quit. 
Couldn't eben eat ma supper in peace. Not a bite. Too 
much mystification in dis house fo' me. I needs something fo' 
my nerves. 

(^Pours glass of wine and is about to drink itS) 

Enter Lulu from L. with box of cigars. When door at L. is 
opened conversation and laughter are heard from the 
di fling-room. 

Lulu {close to Aunt P.). Look at that now ! 

Aunt P. {dropping glass, which breaks). My lawsy 
massy kingdom come ! 

Lulu. What's the matter with you? Got the willies? 

Aunt P. Lawsy, is dat you, Lulu, honey? I thought dat 
it was a hant or a burglum ! I'm skeerd purt' nigh to death. 
{Angrily.') Ain' you got no more sense dan to scare me data- 
way ? You made me break dat glass. 

{Picks up pieces and throws them out of the window.) 

Lulu. I guess it was your conscience that scared you. 
Drinkin' the fine wine you was. The very best, too, that Mrs. 
Shine only put out here for the wedding. 

Aunt P. My nerves is so upsot dat I needs a little stimu- 
lation. 

Lulu. Wliat's the matter with your nerves ? 

Aunt P. I dunno. You know, Lulu, I think dat I's con- 
jured. Ebry blessed thing dat Ps put my hand to dis ebenin* 
has turned out wrong. 

Lulu. Yes, I heard the missus complaining about the 
supper. 

Aunt P. Ebrything went wrong. It ain't my fault. I's 
conjured. And dat ain't all. {Lowers voice mysteriously.) 
There's some mystification a-gwine on in dis house, and dat 
sure is de truth. 

Lulu. What do you mean ? 

Aunt P. I dunno what it is. Hants or ghosteses or some- 
thing like dat. And dis colored lady is sure gwine to look for 
another situation. {Loud laughter and applause in the dining- 
room.) What's dat? What's goin' on in dere? It sounds 
like a circus-show. 

Lulu. It's more than that. It's that Mrs. Spiggot. She's 
the funniest thing ! She can beat Billy Jackson telling a story. 



40 THE HOODOO 

Aunt P. Is dat de old man's wife ? 

Lulu. Yes. I wonder how she came to marry an old 
bone-head like him. He must have a lot of money. 

Aunt P. What she doin' ? 

Lulu. Singing and play-acting just like a theatre lady. 
She's got every man in the bunch going. 

{Puts cigars on table near fireplace.^ 

Aunt P. Is dey nearly through ? 

Lulu. They got as far as the cheese. They're waiting for 
Mr. Early. I wonder why he went to town at this time of 
night ! 

Aunt P. Gone after the police, I reckon. 

Lulu. What for? 

Aunt P. 1 told you dere's mystification goin' on. What'd 
you bring dem ci-gars in here for ? 

Lulu. For the men to smoke, of course. {Crosses to l.) 

Aunt P. Where you gwine ? 

Lulu. Back to the dining-room. Why? 

Aunt P. I'm skeerd to be down in dat old kitchen by 
myself. Dat's why. 

Lulu. What are you scared of? 

Aunt P. Burglums. 

Lulu. There are no burglars here. 

Aunt P. Is dat so? Well, if dey hain't burglums, dey is 
hants. About an hour ago I had my supper all laid out on de 
kitchen table, ready to eat. I went to de ice-box to get some 
spring onions. My back wasn't turned more'n a minute. No, 
mam, not more'n a minute. 

Lulu. Well, what happened ? 

Aunt P. I come back to get my supper — an' it wasn't dere. 

Lulu. Where was it ? 

Aunt P. How do I know? It was gone. Not a bite left. 
And, Lulu, honey, dere wasn't a soul in dat part ob de house, 
'cept'n' me. Now, if dat wasn't hants — den what was it? 

Lulu {laughing). Why, Aunt Paradise, that's a joke on 
you. 

Aunt P. Wasn't no joke, neither. What become ob dat 
supper ? 

Lulu. Why, you ate it and forgot all about it. 

Aunt P. No, mam ! No, mam / When I eats, I eats — 
and I knows it. I didn't hab a bite. It's hants. An' I hain't 



THE HOODOO 4I 

gwine to stay 'round no place where dere's hants. Dey hain't 
healthy. 

Lulu. Maybe your fellow took the lunch. 

Aunt P. I hain't got no fellow. I'se a 'spectable married 
widow, I is; wif six little black-an'-tans. You know I hain't 
got no fellow. 

Lulu. Well, I have — and that reminds me. {Takes a 
handful of cigars.') He does so love to smoke good cigars. 

{Goes to door af L.) 

Aunt P. Wait a minute. Don't leabe me alone. Some- 
thing's liable to carry me off. 

Lulu. You've been dreaming and had a fine nightmare. 
(Takes more cigars.) Don't be afraid, Aunt Paradise. 

[Exit, at L. 

Aunt P. {looking after he?-). Look at her take dem ci-gars ! 
If dat ain't de nerviest gal I eber seed. She sure is. (Dun 
steals cigar box and exits in fireplace.) Her fellow loves to 
smoke good ci-gars, does he ! Umm ! What right she got 
stealin' our ci-gars ? Dat's de trouble wif dese white help — 
dey ain't got no reprehensibility. I hain't got no fellow, but I 
reckon ma gentleman friend likes to smoke good ci-gars his 
own self. {Crosses to tables ?iot lookifig at it.) Fac' is, I'se 
got seberal gentlemen friends — and dey all likes good ci-gars. 
{Feels for box without looking at it.) She hain't de only one 
who's got gentlemen friends. {Looks — starts — backs aivay 
from table staring at it.) Umm ! Umm ! Great day in de 
mawnin* ! {Positively.) Now, I knows dat dere is some mys- 
tification a-goin' on in dis house. Dis colored lady gwine to 
pack her grip right atvay f My feelings tells me dat I'd better 
go while de goin' is good. 'Kase hants hain't healthy. Dey 
sure hain't ! 

(Aunt P. starts to exit r., and 'Billy enters from l.) 

Billy. Hello, aunty. 

Aunt P. {frightened). G-g-good-ebenin*, Mr. Jackson. 
Billy. What's the matter? J didn't frighten you, did I? 
Aunt P. No, sir. I hain't frightened. I'm jes' skeerd, 
dat's all. 

Billy. What's scared you ? 

Aunt P. De burglums. 

Billy. Why, there are no burglars here. 



42 THE HOODOO 

Aunt P. Dat's what I said. I'se said all along dat it's bants ! 

Billy. Well, if any hants get after you, aunty, just call 
on me. 

Aunt P. Yes, sir. If dey gets after me, yo'se a-gwine to 
hear me call on somebody. 

Enter Mal. from L. 

Mal. Just a moment, Paradise. 

Aunt P. (retur?ung to r. c). Yes, sir? 

Mal. You haven't seen any suspicious looking people 
around the house to-day, have you ? 

Aunt P. No, sir. I hasn't seen 'era. 

Mal. No one who looked as if he were after something ? 

Aunt P. Nobody but Mr. Jackson dere. He's de mos' 
suspicionest person I'se seen. 

Billy. Why, you don't think that I look that way, do you ? 

Aunt P. (chuckling). You been flirtin' round here so much, 
dat you look like you was after a wife. 

Mal. I guess that she's on to you, Billy. That isn't what 
I mean. Paradise ; I mean some one who doesn't look right. 

Aunt P. Dat dere Spiggot man don't look right to me. 

Mal. I mean a thief, a burglar ! 

Aunt P. Lavvsy, Mr. Meek, is dey a thief here ? I knowed 
it, I knowed it I 

Mal. You see, Mr. Early lost his watch this morning. 
And there are other things missing. 

Aunt P. Yes, sir, my supper is missing. 

Mal. You haven't found anything to-day, have you? 

Aunt P. Nothin' but dis pin. (Takes scarab pin from 
dress.^ I found dat out in de front yard. 

Billy. It's a scarf pin. Probably one of the men lost it. 
I'll ask them. (Aunt P. gives the pin to Billy, who pins It 
on his coat.) Here's a dollar for you, aunty. (Gives coin.) 

Aunt P. (pocketing com). Thank you, Mr. Jackson. 
(Crosses to door at r.) You hain't near as suspicious as you 
was. [Chuckles and exits r.) 

Mal. Brighton should be back by now. 

Billy. Did he go to the police headquarters ? 

Mal. Yes. And to the bank. That boy had enough 
trouble this afternoon to do him for the rest of his life. And 
the peculiar thing of it was, that it all came in a bunch. 

(Auto horn heard.) 



THE HOODOO 43 

Billy. There he comes now. 

Mal. What a pleasant little woman Mrs. Spiggot is. So 
entertaining. 

Billy, Yes, slie is entertaining. 

Mal. And how well she recites. That last little poem was 
positively touching. 

Billy. Yes, that's a little specialty of hers — touching. 

Mal. She is quite an addition to our party. 

Billy. I guess Brighton thinks that she's a multiplication. 

Enter I^ri. from R., 7vith auto coat, cap and goggles. 

Bri. (coming c). Boys, congratulate me ! That telegram 
was all a mistake. It wasn't the Second National at all. It 
was the Fourth National that failed. 

Billy {sinking in chair at l. c. weakly). The Fourth 
National ? 

Bri. Yes, I didn't lose a cent. 

Billy. Every penny that I have in the world is in the 
Fourth National. 

Bri. Billy ! 

Billy. Fact, every cent. Dad said that it was the safest 
bank in town. 

Mal. This is awful. Are you sure that it was the Fourth 
National, Brighton ? 

Bri. Yes, that's a settled fact. I never knew that you had 
your money there, Billy. 

(Places coat, hat, goggles arid gloves o?i hall-tree.) 

Billy. Every cent. Father used to be a director before 
he moved to Jersey. 

Mal. There seems to be some awful fatality pursuing us. 

Bri. Yes, first the diamond necklaces disappeared. 

Billy. Then you got the fright of your life about your 
money. 

Mal. And now you've lost yours. 

Bri. To say nothing of Dodo. 

Mal. Dodo ? What is Dodo ? 

Bri. Oh, nothing — that's just a little term of reproach, 
that's all. Dodo bird, you know. 

Billy (still seated and staring gloomily before him). I 
don't suppose that there would be any use of my going to the 
city to-night. 



44 THE HUODOO 

Bri. No, there's nothing you can do to-night. 

Billy. Are you sure it was the Fourtli National ? 

Bri. Absolutely. I went around to tiie bank and found it 
closed, with a sign of trailed on the door. 

Billy. Well, I guess that means me for the rolling mills. 
.No matrimony for me now. 

Bri. Were you thinking of that ? 

Billy. One never knows what bad luck is liable to happen. 

Mal. Is there anything that I can do, Mr. Jackson ? 

Billy. Not a thing in the world, thank you, Mr. Meek. 

Mal. Brighton, you'd better come in and have a bite to 
eat. The ladies are wailing at the table. 

Bri. All right. Uncle Malachi. {^Comes dow?i to Billy 
and gives him his hatid. Billy rises and grasps Bri.'s ha7id 
warmly. Pause.') You know me, old man. 

Billy. Thank you, Bright. 

Bri. I'll help you all I can. Our little fraternity pins stand 
for something more than words. 

Billy. I know how you feel, Bright. 

Bri. Now don't be down-hearted. Maybe the failure is not 
as bad as reported. I'll drive you over to the city the first 
thing in the morning. 

Billy. Don't say anything about it to the ladies. 

Bri. Of course not. 

Mal. Keep a stiff upper lip. Probably there is some mis- 
take. {Crosses to l. door.) Coming, Brighton? 

[Exit in dinifig-room. Laughter heard. 

Bri. You haven't got a monopoly on the trouble market, 
Billy boy. Just think of me and Dodo. I've seen her lawyer 
and mine. I suppose there's nothing else to do but to give her 
thirty thousand dollars. 

Billy. It's a swindle. 

Bri. I guess we're in the same boat. But remember our 
old college motto : Every cloud of adversity shows a man what 
true friendship means. 

{They clasp hands. Pause.) 

Billy. You'd better go in and get some dinner. They're 
waiting. 

Bri. All right. Let's forget our troubles for to-night, 
Billy. 

Billy. Nothing can be done now. 

Bri. So it's no use to worry. \^Exit in dining-room, at "L. 



THE HOODOO 45 

Billy (sinking in chair and sfari?ig in front of liinf). Every 
cent that I had in the world. 1 never can marry little Doris 
now. Poor litde kid, she said she would give me her answer 
to-night. It will have to be Mrs. Clinger. Sb.e's the heiress 
of the bunch. It's the only way. Poor little Doris ! I hope 
she didn't take me seriously. Poor little Gwendolyn, too. 
{Crosses to R.) She won't care, but I'm afraid that little 
Doris will. It's an awful thing to be in love with three girls 
at the same time. No, not three girls — two girls and a widow. 
A rich widow, and from the present outlook t!:e rich widow is 
going to cop the matrimonial prize. Oh, Lord, then I'll have to 
be a father to that little angel, Angelina. Fwon't do it. But 
her mother is an heiress. Well, maybe I can stand little An- 
gelina. But poor Gwendolyn and poor little Doris. \^Exit, r. 

Enter cautiously from the fireplace Dun. He comes in to c. 
stealtJiily. 

Dun. I guess I've got everything that can be got. Now 
let me see how I'm going to get away. {Starts to dining-room 
at L. Laughter heard.') Nothing doing yet. Back to your 
chimbly, Sandy Glaus, back to your chimbly. 

\^Exit in fireplace. 

Enter Gwen. and Amy from l., chatti?ig. They cross to r. 
and sit. 

Amy. I think Mrs. Spiggot's a dear ! And such a bright, 
sparkling girl, too. 

Gwen. She's awfully funny. I'm afraid that mamma 
doesn't approve of her. She doesn't seem to see the points of 
Mrs. Spiggot's jokes. 

Amy. And what a pretty dress she has on. I always 
thought that professors' wives and faculty women were dowdy. 
But she isn't at all. 

Enter Mrs. C., Mrs. P.-S. and Doris. They form a group 
ifi the center of the stage. All seated. 

Mrs. C. I wonder where Billy Jackson is? 

Amy. Looking at the moon, I suppose. 

Dor. Yes, Billy adores the moon. 

Mrs. C. {affectedly). And so do I. 

Amy. That's because there is a man in it. We all adore it. 



46 THE HOODOO 

i^Enter DoDO, Ang. and Miss L. They sit at l.) We are so 
pleased to have you with us, Mrs. Spiggot. I like you already. 
You are Bright's only cousin, aren't you? 

Dodo. Yes, his only one. 

Ang. He'll have a bunch of cousins when he gets married. 
Amy has got cousins to burn. 

.Mrs. C. Angelina ! 

Ang. Well, she has. 

Miss L, Don't you find it rather dull in your college town, 
Mrs. Spiggot? 

DoDO. Oh, no; I never find it dull anywhere. 

Amy. But a college set are generally so slow and depressing. 

DoDo. I don't think that any one ever accused my set of 
being slow and depressing. 

Dor. You don't look like a professor's wife at all, Mrs. 
Spiggot. 

Dodo. Don't I? Now that's strange, isn't it? 

Mrs. C. 1 am sure Mrs. Spiggot gets her hats from a milli- 
ner, and somehow one never associates a milliner with the 
head-gear of a faculty woman. 

Amy. And they always wear square-toed shoes. Your 
shoes aren't square-toed, are they? 

Dodo {showing foot'). The idea ! 

Mrs. C. And they always wear crystal beads on their 
dinner dresses in the faculty set. 

DoDO. Well, my set isn't like the usual faculty set. 

Ang. Mrs. Perrington-Shine? 

Mrs. P.-S. Yes, dear. 

Ang. Why is it that every girl in this bunch is crazy about 
Billy Jackson? 

Mrs. C. Angelina ! 

Mrs. P.-S. Ima, if you can't make that child behave, you 
had better send her to bed. 

Mrs. C. You hear that, Angelina ? 

Ang. It's funny that I can't mix in the talk without getting 
squelched every time. 

Mrs. C. That will do, young lady. I can't imagine where 
she picks up such low expressions. 

Ang. From Billy Jackson. 

Miss L. I have often wanted to visit your college, Mrs. 
Spiggot. Do you do much work in the museum ? 

DoDO. I never do museum work. My line is legitimate 
stock. 



THE HOODOO 47 

Mrs. P.-S. And are you interested in suffrage, Mrs. 
Spiggot? 

Dodo. Of course I am. And for it strong. Every girl in 
our company is an out-and-out suffragette. 

Dor. What a very congenial company you must have. 

Dodo. Yes. You ought to see us after the last performance 
on Saturday night. {Sarcastically.^ 

Amy. Do you have your suffragette meetings on Saturday 
night? 

Dodo. Yes, with a string band and a little lobster lunch. 
• Mrs. C. How very original. So you always have lobsters? 

Dodo. Yes, both human and a la Newburg. 

Mrs. P.-S. I'm heartily in sympatliy with the suffrage 
movement. I think woman has been man's slave too 
long. 

Dodo {sweetly'). I'm sure you never were anybody's slave, 
dear Mrs. Perrington-Shine. 

Mrs. P.-S. Of course not. I referred to women in general. 
The time at last has come for us to assert ourselves. We have 
kept silent too long. 

Dodo. Fancy a woman keeping silent ! 

Miss L. We'll show man that we are his equal. 

Mrs, P,-S. Of course we will. 

Mrs. C. And more than his equal — his superior. 

Mrs. P.-S. {applauding'). Our place is at the ballot-box as 
well as in the home. 

Dodo {applauding). You're right ! My views exactly ! 

Mrs. P.-S. I should like to see any man try to dictate 
to me. 

Dodo. I wonder what would happen. 

Dor. But, Mrs. Perrington-Shine, don't you think that 
we v/omen can trust the men to do our voting for us ? 

Mrs. P.-S. When you've been married twice, as I have, 
you won't trust a man to do anything. You won't trust them 
at all. 

Amy. I'm willing to let my husband do the voting for me. 

Miss L. But suppose you haven't a husband ? 

Amy. Then I'd want a man before I'd want a vote. 

Mrs. C. But wouldn't it be grand if the women got in 
power and could make the men do just exactly what we wanted 
them to ? 

Dodo. Whenever that happens there won't be a bachelor 
left in America. 



48 THE HOODOO 

Amy. Bright says that he will vote just the way I want 
him to. 

Mrs. P.-S. When you are married you'll learn not to be- 
lieve everything your husband says. There's nothing opens a 
girl's eyes quicker than marriage. 

Dodo. And the funny thing about it is that every girl is 
anxious to have them opened. 

Miss L. I'd like to have a hand in making the laws of this 
country. So many things need reform. 

Mrs. P.-S. The most crying need for reform is the entire 
male sex. Why, statistics prove that the married woman is 
more likely to lose her mind than any other human being. 

Dodo. There's a reason for that. You see she is always 
giving her husband a piece of it. 

Miss L. This country is far behind several of the European 
countries in the matter of suffrage. Why, in Denmark they 
even have women soldiers and women sailors. 

Dodo. Women sailors ! Just imagine women sailors in this 
country. If they were on a ship and some one called out, — 
'<A sail! A sail !" every woman would be looking for the 
bargain-counter and wondering if they were going to give 
trading stamps. 

Mrs. C. (rising). The men seem to be having a session. 

Amy (risi?ig'). I wonder if we couldn't have a little dance ? 

GwEN. Yes, mamma. Can't we have a little dance? 

Mrs. P.-S. I have no objection. 

Amy. Come on, girls, let us push the furniture back in the 
parlors. 

Mrs. P.-S. ril call the maid. [Exit, r. 

Dor. We'll all take turns at the piano. Come on, 

\_Exeu7it Amy, Gwen,, Dor., Mrs. C. a/id Aug. 

Miss L. (rising a?id crossing to r. ). Does your husband 
dance? 

Dodo (^forgetting). My husband? Oh, you mean the 
professor ? 

Miss L. Yes. He's such a brilHant man, isn't he? 

Dodo. Oh, awfully. 

Miss L. He must travel a great deal ? 

Dodo. He does. I never saw a brilliant man yet who 
didn't go out at night. 

Miss L. Are you interested in Egyptology, too ? 

Dodo. Oh, yes, I'm interested in all the ologies. 

Miss L. What a unique country Egypt is, isn't it? 



THE HOODOO 49 

Dodo. It's more tiian unique; k's decollete. 

Miss L. And the camels and the pyramids and the Sphinx. 
How I should like to see the Sphinx ! 

Dodo, She's the greatest woman in the world. She hasn't 
spoken for twenty centuries. 

Miss L. And the picturesque sheiks. 

DoDO {iiot cofuprehendrng). They were picturesque, weren't 
they ? 

Miss L. I suppose that you saw many an old mummy in 
your travels ? 

Dodo. You're right. But you can see many an old mummy 
without leaving this town. 

Miss L. Did you visit Tripoli ? 

Dodo. I think so. But 1 only left my card. She wasn't 
at home. {Music from r.) 

Miss L. Amy is playing the piano. Shall we join them ? 

{Crosses fo r.) 

Dodo. In a minute ! (Rises and crosses R., quickly.') 
Miss L. Do you dance, Mrs, Spiggot ? 
Dodo. Do I ? Ask me ! Does a duck swim ? 

\_Exeunt ladies at r. 

Enter Bri. from L. 

Bri. Every one thinks that Dodo is the professor's wife. 
I'll have to pay her that money and get rid of her at once. It's 
hitting me pretty hard just at this time. I wonder if the police 
can locate the thief They said they'd have a plain-clothes 
detective over here right away. 

Enter SOL, from L. 

Sol. Cousin Brighton, Cousin Brighton, I am very much 
agitated. 

Bri. You are? Look at me. I'm so agitated that I'm 
afraid to sit down for fear some new calamity will happen. 

Sol. I went to my room just now, Cousin Brighton, and 
what do you think ? 

Bri. I'm too worried to think. What happened ? 

Sol. Two trunks full of feminine apparel were in my room. 
Several gowns and lacey things were on my bed ! Oh, 
Brighton, what would Semiramis say ! And on my dresser 
were false hair and other articles whose use I can only surmise. 
I was appalled, dear cousin, appalled ! 



50 THE HOODOO 

Bri. You must have got into the wrong room. 

Sol. Not at all. These articles all belong to the lady you 
said was my wife. Oh, I fear that that was a grave mistake. 

Bri. Oh, they were Dodo's? What did she say? 

Sol. Fortunately for me she was not present. 

Bri. You see they naturally supposed that that was the room 
to put her in. Don't worry, cousin, it will all turn out right. 

Sol. But I should worry. Her things must be taken from 
my room. I was mortified and shocked, and then — what would 
Semiramis say ? 

Bri. I'll fix it up. Where did they put little Bright-eyes ? 

Sol. Little Bright-eyes? I fear I do not comprehend. 

Bri. Little RoUo — you know, your little — my little cousin. 

Sol. Oh, you mean little Hemachus? 

Bri. Yes, little Hemachus. What room did they give him ? 

Sol. The one right across the hall from mine. 

Bri. I'll have Dodo put in there. 

Sol. (aghast). In there! Impossible. I'll never permit 
that. Semiramis would be horrified. 

Bri. Why would she ? 

Sol. Put her in there ? Innocent little Hemachus ? 
Shocking ! 

Bri. Oh, he'll have to move over with you, of course. 
That will settle the whole business. 

Sol. My dear cousin, I am not used to deception. Please 
tell the household that this lady is not my wife. Couldn't you 
say that she is the tax collector or a book agent? Please, 
please, don't insist on her being my wife. 

Bri. Oh, we can't change that now. It's working all right. 
We'll get rid of her to-morrow. 

Sol. But suppose Semiramis learns of all this. How could 
I ever explain to Semiramis ? 

Bri. Don't explain. Tell her it was all a mistake. Every 
wife has to listen to that fairy tale some time or other. 

SoL. You don't know Semiramis. She is of a suspicious 
nature. 

Bri. Too bad, dear old Solomon ; we'll do our best to keep 
the whole thing from Cousin Semiramis. 

Enter T>ot>o from R. 

Dodo. Hello, hubby. 

Sol. Please don't call me hubby. 



THE HOODOO 5I 

Dodo. They're starting a dance in liere. Come on and 
join your little, trusting wifie. 

Sol. Cousin Brighton, what shall I do? 

Bri. Do as she says, of course. It's the easiest way. 

Dodo. I'm waiting for you, Solly. 

Sol. (crossifig to her). Please don't call me Solly. 

Dodo. Come on. See you later, Cousin Brighton. 

(Brl throivs sofa pillow at Dodo, who laughs and exits R., 
followed by Sol.) 

Brl I'd give a thousand dollars if I'd never seen that 
woman. (Sadly.) And they call her the Dazzling Daisy ! 

Enter Aunt P. from l. 

Aunt P. Mister Early, is dat you ? I'm sure glad you is 
back. 

Brl Why, what's wrong ? 

Aunt P. Dis yere whole house is upsot, dat's what's wrong. 
Burglums, thieves, hants and ghosteses in it. 

Brl What's been stolen now ? 

Aunt P. Purt' nigh eberything we's got. I ain't had a 
bite ob supper, and Lulu put a box ob ci-gars right dere on de 
table — and where is dey now ? 

Brl Some one took them away, I suppose. 

Aunt P. Not some o?ie, some spook. Dat's what it was, a 
spook. I knows. I was right here in de room de whole blessed 
time. She put de box ob cigars right dere. I seen her when 
she done it. I was a-lookin' right at dat box, when all ob a 
sudden it begun to get smaller an' smaller a7i' smaller I Den 
finally it went popp ! an' turn right into air. I went ober an' 
looked all 'round an' it wasn't nowhere in sight. Now, if dat 
ain't hants, what is it? 

Brl I think that you're troubled with too much imagina- 
tion, Aunt Paradise. 

Aunt P. Well, if my 'magination makes me act dataway, 
I'm sure gwine to see de doctor an' hab my 'magination taken 
out. 

Brl Come now, aunty, didn't you or Lulu take that box 
of cigars for some of your retinue? 

Aunt P. Some ob my which ? 

Brl Some of your admirers. 

Aunt P. No, sah ! No, sah / I'm a 'spectable married 



52 THE HOODOO 

widow, I am, an' I wouldn't steal a thing under de sky. 'Deed 
I wouldn't. Much less a old box ob ci-gars. Don't hab no 
use fo' ci-gars nohow. 

Bri. You and Lulu have worked here a long time, haven't 
you? 

Aunt P. Yas, sah. Goin' on eight years, an' nobody eber 
scused us ob stealin' anything yet. I hain't no thief, an' I 
don't want no deflections cast on my character. I tells you, 
Mr. Early, it's hants. Dat's all. I'se done said ma say an' 
dis colored lady gwine to hunt fo' another situation right away. 
People is people, an' hants is hants, an' I ain't gwine to take 
no chances wid 'em. 

Bri. {in a lo7u voice). Aunty, I have reason to believe that 
there is a burglar concealed around the house. 

Aunt P. My lawsy massy, great day in de mawnin' ! 
Maybe we'll all wake up to-morrow an' fin' ebery las' one ob 
us killed stone dead. Pm gwine to pack ma trunk. Dis yere 
house ain't healthy no more. 

Bri. You'd better wait till to-morrow. 

Aunt P. {crying). Pll bet a pretty dat I don' neber see 
no mo' to-morrow, I'm skeerd, Mr. Early. I don' want to 
be murdered. Lawd, no, I sure don't. 

Bri. The police will protect us. 

Aunt P. If it's burglums dey will, but if it's hants — umm, 
what we gwine to do den? Stole my supper, too. Didn't 
eben get a bite. 

Bri. Then you know it isn't hants. Hants don't eat. 

Aunt P. Don't dey? 

Bri. Of course not. It's burglars. 

Aunt P. Don' make no difference. I'm skeerd to death 
anyhow. {Comes to him.) Mr. Early, I'se got ten dollars 
an' sixty-seben cents in a labender-colored hose in ma room. 
Reckon dem burglums found dat? 

Bri. You'd better go up and see. 

Aunt P, Yes, sir. Dat's jes' what I'm gwine to do. 
{Crosses to l.) Lawsy, lawsy, what's become ob de candela- 
brums ? Is dey done tooken dat, too ? 

Bri. By George, it has disappeared ! Well, what do you 
know about that? 

Aunt P. I dunno nothin' 'tall about it. {Looks in mirror.) 
Great day in de mawnin' ! Jes' look at me in de lookin'- 
glass. Jes' look at me ! I'se actually turnin' so pale dat I 
didn't recognize myself. I tells you, Mr. Early, dey's scandal- 



THE HOODOO 53 

ous doin's in dis house, dey sure is ! I hope dem burglums 
ain't discobeied dat labender-colored hose wid dem ten dollars 
an' sixty-seben cents. \^Exit r., limping. 

Bri. {looking at the clocJz). It's after eight. I don't see 
why they don't hurry and send that detective here. 

Enter Kmv from R. 

Amy. Bright, why don't you come in and dance? 
Bri. I'll be there right away. 

Amy. There's nobody dancing except Uncle Malachi and 
Miss Longnecker. Where's Billy ? 
Bri. Smoking out on the veranda. 
Amy. Come on. Doris is playing our favorite one-step. 
^Ri. All right. On with the dance. 

\_Exennt Amy and Bri. 

Enter Billy, r. i e. 

Billy. I smoked four cigars and think I have found the 
solution for my trouble. I'll propose to tiie widow. I'll be a 
papa to little Angelina and a staunch oak for the clinging vine* 

Enter Mrs. C, r. u. e. 

Mrs. C. Billy ! 

Billy. Ima ! I was just thinking about you. 

Mrs. C. I always think about you. {Softly.) 

Billy. Do you think about me enough to {Aside.) 

It's awful, but I'll have to risk it. 

Mrs. C. You seem to be excited, Billy. 

Billy. I am. I'm awfully excited. I always get awful 
excited every time I fall in love. 

Mrs. C. In love? Have you fallen in love? 

Billy. You know I have. Ima {Looks at her, then 

aside.) Oh, I can't do it. 

Mrs. C. Bashful boy! Why can't you continue? You 
said Ima and then 3'ou paused. What did you want to tell 
Ima ? 

Billy. I wanted to Say, don't look at me! {He 

turns her face away.) That's better. 

Mrs. C. You said that you got excited every time you fell 
in love. 

Billy. Don't you think that it's warm in here? 

Mrs. C. I hadn't noticed it. But you were saying 

Billy. Somehow it seems awful hot this evening. 



54 THE HOODOO 

Mrs. C. Shall we go out on the veranda? It's cooler out 
there. You were saying 

Billy. Yes, let's go out there. It's darker — I mean, I 
can't see you so plainly out there. 

Mrs. C. How bashful you are. 

Billy. Do you know, Ima 

Enter Ang. from r. 

Ang. Ma, ma, I want you to come in and make some one 
dance with me. 

Mrs. C. Run away, now, Angelina. I'm engaged. 

Ang. That's just what you wanted then, ain't it? To get 
engaged. 

Mrs. C. Angelina ! I'll have you taken upstairs if you 
don't run away. 

Billy. See, the moon is shining on the veranda. Let's see 
if it will shine on us. 

Mrs. C. All right. {Turns to Ang.) You heard me, 
young lady ! 

Billy {going out r. i e.). She'll go back to the dance. 
Come on. 

Mrs. C. All right. You were saying, Billy, that 

Billy. I'll finish it on the veranda. 

[Exeimt Billy and Mrs. C, r. i e. 

Ang. That Billy Jackson's a mean old thing. I'll get even 
with him, see if I don't. I know what I'll do. {Crosses to 
R. u. E.) I'll put some quinine in ma's face powder. And, 
Mr. Billy Jackson, when you taste that, I guess you'll wish you 
hadn't been so smart. \^Exit, r. u. e. 

Enter Dun, with sack, fro7n the fireplace. He efiters cau- 
tiously and comes c. 

Dun. I got to get out of this. {Looks in r. u. e.) They're 
liavin' a dance in there. Maybe I can get out over the veranda. 
{Crosses to r. i e.) There's nobody there. 

{Sound of a kiss heard at r. i e.) 

Mrs. C. {out r. i e.). Now, Billy, behave. 

Dun. Nothing doing. {Goes up to window in c.) Men 
smoking on the porch. Surrounded. Can't get out. And 
me with the prettiest load of swag I've had for a year. Well, 
I guess I'll have to be old Mr. Sandy Claus again. {Crosses 



THE HOODOO 55 

to tahh up R. Pours drink and drinks it. Pours another 
and holds glass up.) Here's to easy pickings and bridal 
parties. May they live long and prosper. 

Enter Aunt P. from l. hastily, limping. Dun darts behind 
the screen up R. 

Aunt P. {with lavender stocki?ig). Burglums neber 
touched ma private bank. Ebry cent ob my ten dollars an' 
sixty-seben is here. I don't beliebe dat it's burglums nohow. 
A burglum couldn't a-made dat ci-gar box disappear right be- 
fore my very eyes. I wonder if I's conjured. Maybe I'm one 
ob dese here spiritual trance mejums. {Holds out both hands 
toward table like a hypnotist.) Move. Move, dog-on you, 
move. If I is a mejum, I've done lost ma power. I seen a 
man at de Opera House make de tables an' chairs an' every- 
thing else in de room move whenever he told 'em to. {Tur7is 
to screen.) Move! Move! {V)\5^ wriggles screen.) Umm, 
great day in de niawnin' ! I'm a mejum. Move ! Stop ! 
Look at dat thing, doin' jest what I says. I got de whole 
house conjured. {Makes motions like hypnotist to7oard scree?!. 
Every time her hands go up, Dun makes the screen go up. 
Finally the screen moves slowly toward the fireplace. Aunt P. 
cofitifiuifig her gestures violently. Dun exits in fireplace.) 
I'm a wizard, dat's what I is. {Crosses to screen timidly.) 
Got power ober everything. {Touches screen and jumps back 
frightened.) Now daf s what made dat box ob ci-gars turn 
into air. It jest felt ma presence. 

{Takes screen and places it in original positioUf up R.) 
Enter Billy andM.v.'S. Cfrom r.i e. 

Mrs. C. Just to think that we're engaged. It's too good 
to be true. And we'll be so happy, Billy. Just you and me 
and Angelina. 

Billy. Angelina? 

Mrs. C. Yes. Just we three. I'll go right in the parlor 
and announce our engagement. 

Billy. Oh, let's not announce it right away. Let's keep 
them guessing for a few days. I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll 
announce our engagement right before Bright's wedding. 

Mrs. C. Isn't that romantic? And just to think that I'm 
engaged again. 

Billy. Aunt Paradise, where is Mr. Early ? 



56 THE HOODOO 

Aunt P. In de parlor. He's dancing old Griz;zly Bear. 
(^Looks off R. u. E.) Look at him ! Look at him ! 

Billy. Tell him I'm looking for him in here. Tell him as 
soon as the dance is through. 

A.UNT P. Yes, sir. \^Exit, k. u. e. 

Mrs. C. When we are married shall we live in New York? 

Billy. No, I think I'll move to Salt Lake City. 

Mrs. C. To Salt Lake ? Why do you want to move there ? 

Billy. I'm going to join the Mormons. 

Mrs. C. The idea ! But if you do that I'll join them, too. 
And so will Angelina. 

Billy. Dear little Angelina ! 

(^Clenches fists and shakes them.') 
Enter Yajiaj from r. u. e. 

Lulu. Mrs. C linger, Angelina has gone to sleep, and Mrs. 
Perrington-Shine sent me to tell you. 

Mrs. C. Thank you so much, Lulu. I'll go to her at once. 
Wait for me, Billy. 

{Exit, r. u. e. Exit Lulu, 'L.y flirting with Billy.) 

Billy. I can see my finish with little Angelina. I'll have 
to put her to bed every night at nine o'clock. But her mother's 
an heiress, and goodness knows I need the money. 



Enter 'Do^.from r. u. e. 



Dor. Billy ! 
Billy. Doris 



Dor. I've been waiting for you to come and dance with 
me. 

Billy. And, believe me, I've wanted to. 

Dor. I didn't think that you'd neglect me this way after 
what you said to me this afternoon. 

Billy. I haven't neglected you. I just heard some bad 
news, that's all. 

Dor. Oh, I'm so sorry. 

Billy. A little financial difficulty. 

Dor. You are in trouble ? 

Billy. Yes, in prelly badly. 

Dor. Then I want to tell you my answer to what you asked 
me this afternoon. I will be your wife whenever you wish. 
I'll share your trouble with you. 



THE HOODOO 57 

Billy. But, Doris, I've lost a lot of money. 

Dor. Do you think I accepted you on account of your 
money? You have your position — we'll save together. 

Billy. Doris, you're a dear, but 1 couldn't ask you to sac- 
rifice yourself 

Dor, It's no sacrifice. I'm willing to marry at once. 
{Pause.) Well, why don't you say something ? Billy, don't 
you want me ? 

Billy. I want you more than anything else in the w^orld. 
Doris, you're all right, pure gold all through. 

(Billy starts to embrace her when Gwen. enters.) 

GwEN. I beg your pardon. 

Dor. Don't mention it. I was just going back to the 
dance. 

Gwen. They want you to play a two-step. 

Dor. All right. I'll go. Wait for me, Billy. 

\_Exit^ R. u. E. 

Gwen. You aren't dancing this evening. 

Billy. No, I've been out looking at the moon. 

Gwen. Alone? I don't think it any fun to look at the 
moon alone. {Pause.) And I haven't seen the moon all 
evening. 

Billy. It's still shining. 

Gwen. I'm afraid to go out on the veranda alone at night. 

Billy. I'll go with you. Come on. 

Gwen. I hope mamma stays in the parlors. Mamma 
doesn't approve of my going out on the balcony in the moon- 
light with a young man. 

Billy. It's different with me. 

Gwen. Yes, I suppose it is. For I'm going to marry you 
— and that makes it different, doesn't it? 

Billy. Marry me? 

Gwen. Yes. Mamma is opposed to it, of course. So I've 
determined to elope. She has no right to blight all my future 
life. Has she ? 

Billy. Of course not. But eloping is such an awful thing. 

Gwen. I think it's too dear for anything. I'd just love to 
elope. 

Billy. But do you really care for me ? 

Gwen. Of course I do, I'm perfectly wild about you. 
You're such a cute little man. 



58 THE HOODOO 

Billy. I'm afraid that your mamma doesn't care to look at 
me in the light of a son-in-law. 

GwEN. That makes no difference. Mamma isn't going to 
marry you, is she ? 

Billy. I hope not. 

GwEN. And I've simply set my heart on eloping. Come 
on, I want to see the moon. (^Crosses to r. i e.) 

Billy. I wonder which of them I'm engaged to ! 

\_Exit with GwEN., r. i e. 

Enter Y^M^i^ from fireplace. 

Dun. While they're all enjoyin' themselves down here, I'll 
jest take a glance at the rooms up-stairs. All them fancy 
dressers must have a bunch of jewels and things that'll come in 
handy for me. [Exit, l. 

Enter YiYM.from r. u. e. 

Hem. I am quite surprised at father. He's in there dancing 
and leading in the frivolity of the occasion. And he seems to 
be enjoying himself. Ah, father, father, I fear that it is well 
for you that Cousin Brighton is married only once in a while. 

Enter Lulu, r. u. e. 

Lulu. Oh, excuse me, sir. I didn't know that any one was 
here. 

Hem. Well, there isn't any one here except myself. 

Lulu {coming down to hifn). Only yourself — {pausiiig, she 
looks at him ; he catches her eye and looks away quickly. 
Bashful hisifiess) and myself. 

Hem. If you are about to pursue any of your household 
duties, don't let me interrupt you. 

Lulu. I was just going to lock up the windows for the 
night. Oh, Mr. Hemachus ! 

Hem. Yes ? 

Lulu. I've got something in my eye. 

Hem. Dear me, dear me ! Let me see ! {Crosses to her?) 

Lulu. And, oh, it hurts something fierce. 

Hem. I fail to perceive anything whatsoever. 

Lulu. Oh, I can't see at all. {Takes his hand.) 

Hem. Dear me, I am very sorry. {Takes her other hand.') 

Lulu. I can see better now. 

Hem. And does your eye still pain you ? 



THE HOODOO 59 

Lulu. It's not as bad. I hope it won't disfigure my eyes. 
Some folks say that I have such pretty eyes. 

Hem. Do they ? 

Lulu. Yes. But you don't think so, do you ? 

Hem. They seem to be quite normal to me. Possibly the 
corona is 

Lulu. Say, where are you from, anyway, Mr. Hemachus ? 

(Crosses to L.) 

Hem. I'm a student at Drinkwater University. 

Lulu. Are you one of them wild, dashing, fly-by-night 
students ? 

Hem. I'm proud to say that I am. I am the sergeant-at- 
arms of my class. 

Lulu. Isn't it rather a funny class? 

Hem. Funny? Not at all. It is characterized by an ex- 
ceedingly solemn demeanor and a fixity of purpose most in- 
domitable. 

Lulu. Aw, quit your cuttin' up ! 

Hem. Have you ever been at Drinkwater ? 

(^Comes close to her.') 

Lulu. No, sir. I've never saw a student close-like before. 

Hem. Lulu, I think that I could learn to like you. We might 
become very good friends. The girls at college all say that I'm 
such an awful cut-up. 

Lulu. You're all of that, all right, all right ! 

Mrs. P.-S. (pff^. u. e.). Lulu! 

Lulu. Yes, mam, I'm coming. (^Crosses to door r. u. e.) 
Don't cut-up too much while you're here, Hemachus. I'm 
afraid that you're too giddy for us poor girls. 

(^Laughs and exits R. u. e. ) 

Hem. How very peculiar ! I wonder what father would 
say — and mother ! Poor mother ! She would enjoy this fes- 
tive occasion so much. It's too bad that she had to stay at 
home with poor little brother Cheops. Father does not seem 
to miss her. And that poor unfortunate crazy woman who im- 
agines that she is father's wife ! How very strange ! (^Crosses 
to R. I E.) I think I'll go out on the veranda and look at the 
moon and meditate. (Starts to exit, r. i e.) 



60 THE HOODOO 

GwEN. {outside r. l. e.). Billy, please stop ! What would 
mamma say ? 

Hem. There seems to be some one out on the veranda. I 
wonder if they are looking at the moon and meditating ! 

GwEN. Billy Jackson, you're just awful ! 

Hem. Some one is in need of help, I dare say. Probably 
I can assist her. \^Exit, r. i e. 

Enter Dun, fro77t l., with a suit- case. 

Dun. Gee, what a rich haul ! Diamonds, wedding pres- 
ents, real lace and rolls of money. The guy who is getting 
married suspects something is wrong. Maybe he'll start a 
search. I'll have to put a decoy on some one else. Then I'll 
make a clean getaway. \^Exit in fireplace. 

Enter ^iLUi from r. i e. 

Billy. Little Hemachus will keep Gwendolyn quiet for a 
few minutes at least. She wants me to elope. Each one of 
the three expects me to marry her. I can't marry them all — 
I'm not triplets. Poor little Doris ! {Sinks ifi chair at l.) 
She's the queen of the bunch. Wanted to help me because 
she thought that I was in trouble. {Yawns and stretches him- 
self in chair.) I wish she had Mrs. dinger's money. Then 
that would fix things beautifully. Gee, I'm sleepy. I'll have 
to go over to the city the first thing in the morning and see 
about the Fourth National. Maybe it's a mistake after all. 
Then I won't have to marry Mrs. dinger. {Nearly asleep.) 
Then that would leave me free to marry Doris ! Pretty little 
Doris of the daisies. Doris! Doris! {Sleeps.) 

Enter Dun fro7n fireplace. 

Dun. I'll drop this string o' diamonds in this guy's pocket. 
Then if there's any trouble, he'll be the goat. {Puts necklace 
in Billy's pocket.) I guess I've got everything worth getting 
now. I might as well make a getaway. {Crosses to R. i e.) 
Somebody out there. This bunch don't do nothin' but set on 
the porch and spoon. Back to the chimbly, Sandy Glaus, 
back to the chimbly ! \^Exit in fireplace. 

GwEN. {appeari7ig in door r. i e.). Billy ! Where are 
you, Billy? {Enters.) Oh, there he is, and he is asleep! 
Isn't he a dear ! Billy ! {Takes his hand.) 

Billy {sleepily). We'll take another round, just like the 



THE HOODOO 6 1 

GwEN. {shakutg hiui). Billy, it's your little Gwen ! 

Billy (^jumping up). What's the matter ? I had a horrible 
dream. 1 thought that I was being married. 

Gwen. To me ? 

Billy. No, to Mrs. Clinger and Angelina. 

Gwen. No wonder you thought that it was a horrible 
dream. 

Billy. I thought that you were showing the moon to little 
Hemachus. 

Gwen, He does nothing but talk astronomy. (^Shyly.) 
I'd rather show the moon to you. 

Hem. {appearing in the doorivay r. i e.). There's a cloud 
over the moon. 

Gwen. {pulling Billy r. i e.). Oh, Billy, come on. I do 
want to see the cloud over the moon. 

Hem. {coming c). But the moon's light is entirely ob- 
3cured. 

Billy. I always shine the brightest when the moon is dark. 
Come on, Gwen ! 

Gwen. I hope mamma stays in the parlors. 

\_Exeunt Billy arid Gwen. 

Hem. How very peculiar ! 

Enter Mrs. P.-S., Mal., Mrs. C, Sol., Dor., Miss L., Bri. 
a7id Amy. 

Sol. Ah, little Hemachus, here you are. {Down r.) 

Hem. Yes, father, here I am. {At r. c. ) 

Dor. I am rather tired, Mrs. Perrington-Shine ; I think I'll 
say good-night. 

Mrs. P.-S. It's rather late. I think we had all better re- 
tire. Professor, where is your wife ? {At l. c. ) 

Sol. Semiramis? She's taking care of little Cheops. 

Miss L. She was dancing the one-step a moment ago. {Uph.) 

Sol. Oh, yes, to be sure. I think she is in the drawing- 
room. 

Enter Dodo. 

Dodo. Mrs. Perrington-Shine, I don't know when I've had 
such a delightful evening. {At l. c.) 

Mrs. P.-S. We are so glad you were able to come. I sup 
pose that little Cheops is better? {At c.) 

Dodo. Cheops ? 



62 THE HOODOO 

Bri. {hastily). Oh, yes, your little Cheops. He's better, 
isn't he? {Up c.) 

Dodo. I didn't know I had a little Cheops. 

Bri. He had the fever, you know. 

Dodo. Oh, yes. I remember now. You see, Mrs. Per- 
rington-Shine, I'm always forgetting little things like that. 

Mrs. P.-S. Where is Gwendolyn? 

Mrs. C. And where is Mr. Billy Jackson? {Up v^. c.) 

Hem. They are out on the veranda. He is showing her 
the moon under a cloud. 

Mrs. P.-S. (crossing to R. i e.). Gwendolyn ! Gwen- 
dolyn, I say ! 

E titer Gwen. and 'Billy from r. i e. 

Gwen. Here I am, mamma. 

Mrs. P.-S. I told you distinctly not to go out on the 
veranda. And with a young man ! I'm flustrated, Gwen- 
dolyn, flustrated. {Crosses to l. c.) 

Gwen. It's only Billy, mamma. (Crosses to l. c.) 

Mrs. P.-S. I see it is. Young man, what is the meaning 
of this ? 

Billy. Well, you see, Mrs. Shine, we were 

{At extreme R.) 

Mrs. P.-S. Mrs. Perrington-Shine, please. 

Billy. Yes, of course. Mrs. Perrington-Shine. We were 
only looking at the moon. 

Hem. But the moon was under a cloud. {At r. c.) 

Sol. That will do, Hemachus. (At r.) 

Hem. Yes, father ! 

Mrs. P.-S. Gwendolyn, I am waiting for an explanation. 
Why have you disobeyed me ? 

Gwen. Why, mamma. It was perfectly proper. You see, 
we're engaged. 

All. Engaged ! 

Mrs. C. Engaged ! Mrs. Perrington-Shine, Mr. Jackson 
is engaged to me. ( Takes c. ) 

Dor. Billy ! Is this true ? 

{Comes dowfi to Billy's right.) 

Mrs. C. He proposed to me this very evening and I 
accepted him. 



THE HOODOO 63 

Billy. There's some mistake. 

Mrs. C. There is no mistake. I've had enough experience, 
Mr. Billy Jackson, to know a proposal vvlien I hear one. 

GwEN. Mamma, mamma, he is engaged to me ! 

Dor. Billy Jackson, I never want to see you again. 

Mrs. C. You are welcome to him, IMiss Gwendolyn ; I 
never want to see him again. Mr. Jackson, our engagement is 
broken. If you want her now, you are at liberty, sir, you are 
at liberty. 

Mrs. P.-S. Mr. Jackson, there is no use asking you to 

explain. I have only one thing to say to you — and that is 

{Loud peal of door- be II off l. Music : The sajtie as for Sol.'s 
Jirst entrance.) Lulu ! 

Enter Lulu fro?n r. She crosses to l. and exits. 

Mrs. Semiramis Spiggot {outside l.). I want to come in. 
1 want my husband. 

Lulu. I'll speak to Mrs. Perrington- Shine. 

Enter Lulu from l. 

Mrs. P.-S. What is it, Lulu? Who is it? 

Lulu. It's a lady with some children. She says she wants 
her husband. 

Mrs. P.-S. She must have gotten into the wrong house. 
Her husband isn't here. 

{Music louder. E?iter Mrs. S. followed by Eupepsia Spig- 
got and five other children, walki7i^ one behind the other. 
Mrs. S. takes c, the children group around her.) 

Mrs. S. He is here ! Sailing under false pretenses. He 
is here, and with another wife. I'll have my rights. 

Mrs. P.-S. I am Mrs. Perrington-Shine. You've made a 
mistake. Your husband isn't here. {At l. c.) 

Mrs. S. {pointing to Sol., who takes a step backward and 
as Billy is beside him, Mrs. S. is poititing to Billy). There 
he is ! The false, deceitful wretch. Cutting up like a gay 
Lothario here at the wedding feast ! Children, see your father ! 
See his disgrace ! 

Eup. Oh, father, father ! 

Mrs. S. This is no place for me. I'll return to the hotel. 
To-morrow I'll get a divorce. I'll see if there is any law in 
this land for a confiding wife, the mother of seven. 



64 THE HOODOO 

All. The mother of seven ! Oh, Billy ! 

(Billy wilts.') 

Billy. She's not talking to me. I never saw her before. 
Tiiere's some mistake. 

Mrs. S. Come, children. This is no place for us. My 
heart is breaking. (^Crosses up to door l., then turns.) And 
I thought that you were a model man. 

\_Exit L., 7vith Eup. and children. 

Mrs. P.-S. Now, Mr. Jackson, will you be good enough to 
explain ? 

Billy. It's all a mistake ! 

Mrs. P.-S. Your wife and children a mistake ! You are a 
villain, sir. I must ask you to leave my house. 

Dor. Oh, Billy, can't you explain ? 

Eiiter Aunt P. from l. 

Mrs. C. I feel faint. {Clasps her hand to breast.) My 
diamonds ! {Screams.) I've been robbed. My diamond 
necklace. I had it just a moment ago. I've been robbed. 
Billy Jackson, where is my necklace? 

Bri. What do you mean to infer, Mrs. Clinger? 

Mrs. C. I had it just now. I've been with no one except 
that man. I demand that he be searched. 

{Lively music. Quick actioft.) 

Mal. Other things are missing too. 

Aunt P. Dey sure is. Somebody stole ma supper. Some- 
body took ten dollars an' sixty-seben cents out ob ma labender 
colored hose. 

Mrs. C. Search him ! Search him ! 

Billy. I'm perfectly willing. Come on and search me, 
Bright. 

Bri. It's absurd ! 

Mrs. C. I insist on it. 

Billy. And so do I. 

(Bri. crosses to Billy and searches him. Billy takes off 
coat and hands it to Bri., who searches it and draws out 
the 7iecklace from pocket.) 

Mrs. C. I told you so, I told you so. 



THE HOODOO 65 

Mrs. P.-S. Call the police ! 

Bki. Billy, Billy, what does this mean ? 

{Drops coat on stage?) 

Billy. First I'm engaged to three, I lose my money in the 
Fourth National Bank, 1 find a wife and half a dozen kids, and 
now I'm a thief. Don't send for the police, send for the keeper 
of the insane asylum. Tell him to prepare padded cell No. 23 
for little Billy ! {This speech loud, fast and dratnatic.) 



QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. —Sa/;ie set as Act II, 

Enter Bri. at rise and crosses to telephone Ofi ivall at R. 
Takes dow7i receiver. 

Bri. {in telepho?ie^. Hello, Central. (A pause.') Hello, 
hello ! I wonder if Central's gone to sleep. Hello ! What's 
the matter with the girl, anyhow ! Hello ! Oh, yes, 1 wanted 
you. Central ! Give me 6696 Main. Yes, the police station, 
thank you. (Dun appears in frofit of fireplace and listens.) 
Hello, is this the police station ? Oh, yes — thank you. I want 
to speak to the sergeant. All right. [Pause.) Hello, Sergeant, 
is that you ? This is Early. Yes, 1 know that it's early in the 
morning, but this is Mr. Early speaking to you. I was there 
this afternoon, you remember. Yes, about that detective. We 
need one up here right away. Our wedding presents have been 
stolen. {Pause.) Oh, he came up an hour ago. Well, if he 
did, he failed to make connections — for he hasn't arrived yet. 
{Pause.) Oh, all right. Send a couple of men if you can. 
It's most important. Yes, we've missed other things, and we 
think that the thief is hiding in the house or the grounds. 
(Pause.) All right. Much obliged. Good-bye. 

(Dun disappears.) 

Enter 'Billy from r. u. e. 

Billy. Did you ever see anything like this. Bright ? 

{Sinks in chair at R.) 

Bri. You're up against it, Bill. I know you didn't take 
those things ; I'll vouch for that. But what on earth made you 
proj^ose to three girls all at once ? 

Billy. I didn't. I proposed separately. 

Bri. And tiiey all accepted you. Poor old Bill ! 

{Hand on his shoulder.) 
66 



THE HOODOO 67 

Billy. Mrs. Perrington-Shine thinks that I'm the burglar, 
as well as the heart-breaker. She's ordered me to leave the 
house at once, (^Crosses to l.) 

Brl Where are you going? 

Billy. Going to pack up, and catch the twelve-ten train 
back to the city. 

Brl I'll go up with you. I've just telephoned to the police. 

Billy. What did they say ? 

Brl The sergeant said he sent a man up here an hour ago. 

Billy. Maybe he's the one who stole the things. 

Brl Oh, no, that's impossible; he's apohceman. 

Billy. I have heard of policemen who stole. Well, I've 
got to pack, if I want to get that train. 

Brl I can't tell you how sorry I am, old man. 

Billy. Oh, it's all right. I'm sure Doris doesn't think that 
I'm a burglar. Coming? 

Brl Sure thing. \^Exeuntj l. 

Enter Dun from fireplace. 

Dun (singing). " They're after me, they're after me, to 
capture me is every one's desire ! " I got to get away. Got 
all the goods packed in this little suit- case. (Sees Billy's coat 
on floor.) Hello, what's this? {Searches it.) Not a cent. 
{Sees scarab pin.) Nothing but a dinky little stick-pin. Well, 
I can use that in my business. {Pifis scarab on coat.) Now, 
to vamoose. {Sees Bri.'s coat, cap, etc., up Q.) I might just 
as well disguise myself as a gentleman. {Puts on auto coat 
and cap.) I wonder if my touring car is waiting at the gate ! 
{Puts on gloves and goggles.) Now, I'm the little chauffeur, 
all right, all right. {Picks up grip.) 

E titer Brl from l. ; quickly comes dotvn c, and meets Dun. 

Brl Well, my man, what do you want ? 

Dun Excuse me, sir, is this where the wedding party is? 

Bri. This is Mrs. Perrington-Shine's. What can I do for 
you ? 

Dun {coolly). Nothing. 

Brl Well, what are you doing here? 

Dun {mysteriously, putting finger to lips). Sh ! 

Brl Oh, you're from headquarters? 

Dun. Yes. A long way from headquarters. Don't you 
know me ? 



68 THE HOODOO 

Bri. Yes, I do now. 

Dun (Jo audience). Well, wouldn't that make you freeze in 
summer ? He says he knows me ! 

Bki. Have you been here long ? 

Dun. Not very. 

Bki. The police sergeant told me you were coming. 

Dun. He did ! {To audience.) I wonder how he knew it. 

Bri. I thought at first you were the burglar. 

Dun. You did ? 

Bri. Yes. Funny, wasn't it? 

Dun. Yes, awfully. Do I look like a burglar? 

Bri. Well, you do — a little. 

Dun. That's because I'm in disguise. 

Bri. I thought that couldn't be your natural face. 

Dun. Where is our man ? 

Bri. That's what I sent for you for. To find him. It 
seems funny that I took a policeman for a burglar. 

Dun. Oh, since the New York exposures, they're almost 
one and the same thing. 

Bri. We've lost three diamond necklaces, several pocket- 
books, a set of solid silver and cut-glass and all our wedding 
presents. 

Dun. He didn't miss much, did he ? 

Bri. We have been guarding the front and back door. 
He's in the house and can't escape any other way. 

Dun. Where could he hide ? 

Bri. Probably in the attic or in the kitchen or wash-room. 

Dun. Are you sure he's in the house? 

Bri. As sure as I am that you're here. 

Dun. Well, I reckon he's here then. Shall we look 
up-stairs ? 

Bri. I'll leave everything in your hands. 

Dun. Much obliged. So everything is in my hands? (61v///d'i".) 

Bri. Of course, go as far as you like. 

Dun. I'll do that all right, all right. 

Bri. We've heard several suspicious noises in the fireplace. 
Mr. Meek got his gun and wanted to shoot down the chimney, 
but I persuaded him not to disturb the ladies. 

Dun (luringing his hafid heartily). That's right. Never 
shool and disturb the ladies. 

Bri. I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll make a thorough search 
up-stairs and you guard that front door. There is a valuable 
wallet of papers in that desk there. Keep your eye on that. 



THE HOODOO 69 

(^Crosses to L.) 

Dun. You bet I will. 

Bri. If he tries to run out, shoot — and shoot hard. 

\^Exit^ L. 

(Dun crosses to table and opens drawer. After a pause, 
while Dun is working at drawer, Billy enters from l. 
unobserved, sees Dun and hides behind screen?) 

Dun {searching drawer^. I know it's here somewhere. I 
saw him when he put it in here. I've got it. No, it's only a 
pack of cards. 

Enter Dodo, r. u. e. She sees Dun, starts, then stands watch- 
ing him. 

Dodo. The burglar ! What are you doing at that drawer ? 
Dun. Nothin', lady. So help me. I wasn't doin' nothin'. 

{Turns.) 

Dodo {recognizing hint). Great lieavens, it's Dun ! 

Dun. Dodo, the Dazzling Daisy. Well, I'll be blowed ! 

Dodo. Still at your old tricks, eh ? I thought that you 
were earning an honest living in Canada. 

Dun. What are you doing here? 

Dodo. That's nothing to you. 

Dun. Oh, ain't it? It's a pity if I can't ask my own wife 
what she is doing. 

DoDO {quickly). That's enough of that. I'm here as a 
guest at Mr. Early's wedding. 

Dun. Oh, no, you hain't. You're up to some little game, 
my lady. I haven't been your beloved husband for eight 
years not to know all your little schemes. You're no more of 
an invited guest here than I am. 

DoDO. Well, it's no concern of yours, anyway. 

Dun. Oh, and hain't it? You're up to your old tricks, 
me Dazzling Daisy, and I want my share. 

DoDO. Your share? You're crazy. You have no claim 
on me. 

Dun. Do you want me to call the whole blamed party in 
and to tell them that you are my wife ? 

Dodo. For goodness' sakes, no ! Are you going to molest 
me always ? 



70 THE HOODOO 

Dun. There's something crooked going on here and I'm 
going to lay low until I find out what it is. Anyhow, you're 
the main crook, I know that much ! 

Dodo. You'd better be careful how you address me. What's 
to prevent my calling in the party and telling them that I 
caught you rifling that drawer ? 

Dun. Do it ! Do it ! They'd laugh at you for your pains. 
I'm paid for examining that drawer. I'm no burglar; I'm a 
private detective. It's my business to find the burglar. Maybe 
I'm talking to her now. 

Dodo. You are no detective. You found yourself in hot 
water and are trying to pass for an officer. I know your tricks 
of old. 

Dun. What of it ? I know about you, too. You're palming 
yourself off as the old professor guy's wife. I heard 'em call 
you Mrs. Spiggot. You hain't no more Mrs. Spiggot than I 
am. You're Mrs. Dun, and will be as long as I choose to 
contest the divorce. 

DoDO. Of course I'm not Mrs. Spiggot. 

Dun. If you are I can have you up for bigamy. 

DoDO. Dun, why can't we work together? 

Dun. I'm afraid of your tricks. I wouldn't trust you out 
of my sight. I know you, Daisy. I guess I ought to. We've 
been married long enough. Come now, what's your little 
game? 

Dodo. That's nothing to you. I know that you've made 
a big haul in this house. Those Tiffany necklaces are worth 
thousands, and you've swept everything else into your little 
bag. Now you go, and let me alone. I won't say a word. 

Dun. That's no way to talk to your faithful little husband. 
You're up to something — and I want my share. 

Dodo. Why do you hound me this way ? Why can't you 
let me alone ? Why did I ever meet you ? 

Dun. You'd better ask yourself why you ran away and left 
me. I might be a crook, my lady, but I've always played fair. 
( Comes close to her and grasps her wrist. ) Have you ? 

Dodo (turning away from hint). Let me go. How dare 
you ! 

Dun. You ran away and went on the stage. I've kept 
trnck of you. I know all about that lawyer guy, Maurice 
Cohan, who's trying to get your divorce for you. I've fought 
it and I'm going to keep on fighting it. I've got the money, 
and you know it. 



THE HOODOO 7 I 

Dodo. I was a fool not to take his advice and brand you 
as an habitual criminal. I guess that would give me my 
divorce. 

Dun. Oh, no, — you wasn't a fool. If you'd do a thing 
like that, you'd be the fool. If you ever bring up the subject 
of my criminal record what do you think I'd tell d^yovX yours ? 

Dodo. There is no use quarreling. Meet me in the garden 
to-morrow morning at five — and I'll tell you what I'm doing 
here. 

Dun. No tricks, my lady ? 

DoDO. No tricks. Hush, some one is coming. We mustn't 
be seen together. (^Crosses to r. u. e.) To-morrow in the 
garden at five. [Exit^ r. u. e. 

Dun. I'll be there. To think of my meeting little Dodo 
here ! Well, we're both of us butting into high society. I've 
made a clean sweep and have got all the swag in a dress-suit 
case. I'll just slip away now, and then come back to see little 
wifie in the morning. {Starts to exit L.) 

Billy {coming from behind the screen). Just a moment, 
Mr. Dun. 

Dun {rushing toward Billy, dropping suit-case'). Let me 
at you. 

Billy {thrusting revolver in his face). It's loaded, my 
man. 

Dun {slowly loivering arms) . What do you want ? 

{Husky voice.) 

Billy {calmly). Sit down. 

(Dun starts toward him, Billy pushes revolver at him. 
Dun seats himself slowly l. c.) 

Dun. What do you want? {At l. c.) 

Billy. I'll let you know in a minute. First, I want those 
diamond necklaces and all the other plunder you've taken 
from this house. {At h.) 

Dun. I ain't got 'em. I ain't got a thing. 

Billy. Oh, yes, you have. You just said you had all the 
swag in your dress-suit case. Too bad to wrinkle your dress- 
suit that way. I'll just take that suit-case. 

Enter Aunt P., r. u. e. She sees Dun after she gets well on 
stage. She screams loudly. 



72 THE HOODOO 

Aunt P. Ah ! My lawsy massy, great Day ob de Trum- 
pet ! Help, murder, fire, police ! 

£ flier 'BRi.f?^om r. i e. 

Bri. What's the matter? {At r. c.) 

Billy. I've caught the burglar. 

Brl That isn't the burglar. That's the detective. 

Dun. Yes, sir. That's what I told him. I said 

Billy. That will do for you. Just look in that dress-suit 
case. Paradise. 

Dun (starting to rise). I'll show you ! 

Billy {thrusting gun at him). Sit down. Dun; you're 
done. 

Aunt P. {opening suit-case). Great day in de mawnin' ! 
Here's de di'mond necklaces — and here's de candelabrum — 
an' Miss Doris' lace — an' de weddin' presents. An' glory be ! 
here's my ten dollars an' sixty -seben cents. Dat's de burglum ! 
Dat's him sure as you're born ! 

Billy. Call an officer, Brighton. 

Bri. There's one outside. Did you search him ? 

Billy. We'll let the officer do that. 

Bri. {coming close to Dun). Hello, he's wearing my scarab 
pin. 

Billy. That's the one he got from me. 

Dun. Take it if you want it. 

Bri. No, thank you. Scarabs never did agree with my 
complexion. You take it, Billy. 

Billy. I never did like scarabs. Pve heard that they're 
unlucky. You may have it, Paradise. 

Aunt P. No, sir ! I don' want no artificial bugs 'round me. 

Enter ^oi..from l. 

Sol. Ah, I thought I heard a cry for help ! 

Bri. We've caught the burglar. 

Sol. And have you recovered the missing property ? 

Bri. Yes, everything. [^^// Aunt P., R. u. E. 

Sol. But how did Mrs. dinger's diamond necklace get 
into this young man's pocket ? 

Bri. Our friend here evidently slipped it in when Billy was 
trying to decide which girl he wanted. 

Sol. {seeing scarab in Dun's coat). He has my scarab. 

Dun. You can have it. I don't want it. 

Sol. Very well. {Takes it and pins it on his coat,) 



THE HOODOO 73 

Billy. It's liable to bring you bad luck, Professor. 

Sol. I know it. I shall bury it immediately. The bad 
luck only lasts for twenty- four hours, and after that time the 
owner of the pin enjoys the most bountiful generosity of the 
Egyptian gods. 

Dun. 1 feel better since you took that thing away from me. 

Enter Ijjuj from l. Music same as /or Sol.' s entrance in 
Act I. Soft. 

Lulu. Excuse me for buttin' in, but that lady with all 
them children is here again. She insists on seeing Professor 
Spiggot. 

Brl Tell her that he's gone back to Egypt. 

Sol. Do nothing of the sort. It's my wife, Semiratnis. 
Cousin Brighton, we've had enough deception. I'll explain to 
my wife the true status of affairs. (^Crosses up l.) 

Bkl {going to '^Oh.). Oh, see here. Don't do that. 

Billy {Joining Brl). Don't give the whole thing away. 

Sol. Lulu, show the lady in. 

(Dun crosses to r. silently.) 

Billy. Please don't. Lulu. 

Brl Wait a moment. We've found the thief and the 
missing jewels. Help me a while longer, please, Cousin Sol- 
omon. \^Exit Dun, at r. i e. 

Lulu. Ah ! {Screams.) The man ! The burglar ! He's 
gone ! 

All (rushing to r. i e. and looking down). Head him 
off ! Stop him ! Police ! 

(Lulu, Billy and Brl rush out r. i e. Sol. starts to fol- 
low them.) 

Enter Mrs. S.from l. 

Mrs. S. Solomon ! 
Sol. Yes, my love ! 

{End music.) 

Mrs. S. You were trying to run away from me. 

Sol. Oh, no. There has been a horrible robbery here. 
The thief just escaped out of that door on to the balcony. My 
cousin pursued him. And I was just about to follow his 
example. 



74 THE HOODOO 

Mrs. S. Follow the thief's example and escape? 

Sol. No, follow my cousin. 

Mrs. S. I couldn't stay away any longer. Oh, Solomon, 
Solomon, you have broken my heart ! 

Sol. I never meant to do so, I'm sure. The fault was 
quite unintentional, I assure you. 

Mrs. S. But in spite of all, I'll not leave you here; I'll not 
desert you. For the sake of little Cheops and little Ptolemy, 
Rameses and Isis, to say nothing of Eupepsia and Hemachus. 
For their innocent little sakes — I have come to you for an 
explanation. 

Sol. My dear, there has been a terrible mistake. 

Mrs. S. Oh, Solomon, Solomon, how could you? 

Sol. That's what I ask myself. How could I ? 

Mrs. S. Then you do not attempt to deny it ? It's true ! 
You have another wife? 

Sol. That's a mistake. I do deny it, most emphatically. 
You are the only wife I have at present, Semiramis. 

Mrs. S. I received a telegram, a most horrible telegram, 
from little Hemachus. Oh, Solomon, Solomon ! (^Ha If crying.) 

Sol. What did little Hemachus say ? 

Mrs. S. He said that you had another wife here. Now 
what have you to say ? What explanation can you give ? 

Sol. I never was clever at explanations. 

Mrs. S. I want the truth ; do you hear, the truth ! 

Enter Hem. from l. 

Hem. Father ! 

Mrs. S. Hemachus ! Little Hemachus ! Now we shall 
have some light on the subject. 

Sol. (aside). Why didn't I allow Lulu to tell her that I 
had gone to Egypt ? 

Hem. Mother — you received my telegram ? 

Mrs. S. Yes, and I came at once. Oh, what did it mean ? 
Where is his other wife? 

Hem. Mother — I made a mistake — there isn't any other 
wife. 

Sol. That's what I've been trying to say all along. 

Hem. I sent that telegram under a misapprehension. There 
is a poor lady here, a guest at the wedding, who is non compos 
mentis. 

Mrs. S. {suspiciously). Who told you that ? 

Hem. Oh, every one knows it. She imagines that she is 



THE HOODOO 75 

everybody's wife. It is a peculiar hallucination. Cousin 
Brighton tried to humor the poor thing, and I sent you that 
telegram before I realized the true state of affairs. 

Mrs. S. Are you sure that you realize the true state of 
affairs now ? 

Sol. Of course he does. Cousin Brighton will corroborate 
the story. 

Enter Billy and Brl from r. i e. 

Billy, He got away. 

Bri. Well, we have all the stolen goods. Let him go. 

Sol. Cousin Brighton, this is Semiramis, my wife. 

Bri. So glad to meet you. Cousin Semiramis. (^Crosses 
to L. ) So glad to welcome you to the wedding party. Let 
me present Mr. Jackson. 

Billy. Pleased, I'm sure. (^Doimi r, c.) 

Bri, Cousin Solomon said that you were detained at home 
with little Cheops. {Down l. c.) 

Mrs. S. I ivas detained at home. But I received a tele- 
gram from 

Bri. From little Hemachus. He misunderstood the rav- 
ings of the poor lady up-stairs. She imagines that she is 
everybody's wife. Why, she even thought that she was engaged 
to marry Mr. Jackson here ! 

Billy (^sad/y). Yes. It is very unfortunate. 

Mrs. S. It is — very unfortunate. 

Hem. Probably to-morrow she will imagine that she is my 
wife. (Uj> R. c.) 

Mrs. S. I'm so bewildered that I hardly know what to do. 

Bri. Go up stairs and rest. It's late anyhow, and you've 
had a tiresome journey. 

Hem. Where are the other children, mother ? 

Mrs. S. They are waiting in the hall. (Crosses to l.) 
Come in, children. We are reconciled. We shall stay here 
to-night. 

Enter Eup. followed by four other childreii. 

Sol. Eupepsia, my love. {Kisses her.) And Osiris ! 
{Kiss.) Isis ! {Kiss.) Ptolemy ! {Kiss.) And little Ram- 
eses ! {Kiss.) 

Bri. {rin^in^ hand-bell). Quite a little family reunion. 

Mrs. S. Solomon, can you ever forgive me for doubting 
you? 



76 THE HOODOO 

Sol. Of course I can. The doubt was natural. 
Eftfer Lulu frojn r. 

Bri. Lulu, take this lady and the children up to Mr. 
Spiggot's room. 

Lulu. Up to his room, Mr. Early ? {Points to Sol.) 

Brl Of course. 

Lulu. Well, what do you know about that ? My, but he's 
the gay old bird. (^Crosses to door L.) 

Mrs. S. Good-night, gentlemen. Solomon, have you for- 
given me? 

Sol. Entirely, my angeL {At c.) 

Mrs. S. Come, children. {Crosses to door l.) And to 
think that I ever doubted you ! 

\_Exit -L. ivith Hem., Eup., and children. 

Billy (shaking Sol.'s right hand). You see how easy it 
was. 

Brl (shaking Sol.'s left hand). Just as easy! I wish I 
could get rid of my troubles as easy as you have yours. 

Billy. And look at me. None of the girls speak to me 
now. 

Enter Aunt P. with telegram. 

Aunt P. Here's one ob dese telegraph things for Mr. 
Jackson. 

Billy. More bad news. (Opens telegram.) Hurray! Con- 
gratulate me ! Paradise, you're a dream of heaven ! Here's 
five dollars. (Searches pockets.) Bright, lend me five dollars. 
{Takes bill and gives it to Aunt P., ivho grins.) Listen to 
this. "The failure of the Fourth National does not affect us. 
All our deposits withdrawn a week ago." It's from father. 
{Shakes ha?ids with men.) I'm not a pauper. I breathe 
again. (Rushes around and hugs Aunt P.) I'm the happiest 
man in the country. (Rushes to l.) Let me go. I want to 
tell Doris the good news. Hurray ! Oh, Doris, Doris ! 

[Exit, L. 

Aunt P. He gimme five dollars. Dat man hain't so ram- 
bunctious as I thought he was. Did you ketch the burglum, 
Mr. Early? 

Bri. No, but we've recovered all the stolen property. 

(Down r.) 



THE HOODOO 77 

Aunt P. Glory be ! Stolen property all recovered. I'm 
^o happy dat I feel like dancin' de grizzly bear. 

Bri. Got your money back, did you ? 

Aunt P. Yes, sir. Say, boss, ebery cent ob ma ten dollars 
an' sixty-seben was right dere in dat labender-colored hose. 
(^C?'osses to L.) Mis' Shine done say for me to put out de 
lights an' go to bed. 

Bri. We'll put out the lights, Paradise. 

Aunt P. All right, sir. I certainly am glad dat I recob- 
ered dat labender-colored hose. S^Exit, l. 

Sol. Now, Cousin Brighton, you must get that horrible 
woman out of the house at once. Suppose Semiramis meets 
her. {At c.) 

{Loud scream heard out L. Then enter Mrs, S., very much 
excited^ with a W07na7i^ s hat and shoulder-cape which she 
is tearing to pieces.^ 

Mrs. S. Don't speak to me ! Take him away ! Take him 
out of my sight ! Oh, you villain ; you Mormon ! You, 
you, you ! {At c.) 

Sol. Whatever is the matter ? {At c. ) 

Mrs. S. Matter! Oh, you villain; you man with two 
wives. That maid showed me to your room — and what do I 
find ? I find this — and — this ! In your room. 

Brl {aside). I told Lulu to remove those things. 

Mrs. S. I'll take the children and go at once. 

Brl Wait a moment. Listen to reason. {Dotvn r.) 

Mrs. S. Their father is a gay deceiver — a Mormon — a 
roue ! 

Sol. But, Semiramis 

Mrs. S. Don't speak to me. How dare you stay in the 
same room with me ! 

Brl Did ypu say you found those things in your husband's 
room? 

Mrs. S. {tearing them into bits). Yes, I did. You can't 
deceive me again. I'll leave this house. I'll go home to 
mother. I'll get a div^orce. 

Brl The explanation is ridiculously simple. 

Mrs. S. {calming down). Explanation ? There can be no 
explanation. ( Very loud.) I won't listen to you. I won't. 
{Crosses to door L.) Children, my poor fatherless darlinsjs, 
come here. {Enter Hem., Eup., aiid the children.) This 
house is no place for us. We've been deceived. 



jS THE HOODOO 

Eftter L-VLV from r. u. e. 

Bri. {aif R. c. )• Mrs. Spiggot, please listen to reason. 
Cousin Solomon is incapable of deception. 

Mrs. S. That's what I always thought. But is he? 

(^/ L.) 

Sol. (af c). My dear, I am sure Cousin Brighton can 
explain. 

Bri, Of course I can. Do you see that pin that your hus- 
band has on his coat ? 

Mrs. S. Yes ; it's Kaa, the sacred scarab. 

Sol. Am I wearing that pin? (Takes itoff.') No wonder 
you won't believe me. (Takes pin to jardiniere up c.) Thus 
do I restore thee for twenty -four hours to thy native element. 

(Buries pifi.) 

Brl Now, Cousin Semiramis, when Lulu took you up- 
stairs just now she put you into the wrong room. 

Mrs. S. Lulu, come here. (Lulu crosses to r. c. ; Brl 
follows her.) When you took me up-stairs just now did you 
take me to Professor Spiggot's room ? 

Lulu (holding her hafid back of her for tip from Brl). 
Let me think. So many guests are here. (Brl puts bill in 
Lulu's hafid.) Why, of course I didn't. 1 made an awful 
mistake. I showed you into the wrong room. That room be- 
longs to the other lady. 

Mrs. S. Is this true? 

Lulu. Yes, mam. Of course it is. Mistakes will happen, 
you know. (Crosses to Mrs. S.) Professor Spiggot's room is 
right across the hall. 

(Sol. and "Bri. shake hands unobserved.') 

Mrs. S. Can it be that I have made a mistake ? (At l. c.) 

Lulu. No, mam ; it was all my fault. (Atx..) 

Brl Take her up again, Lulu. And be sin-e to show her 

the right room this time. 

Mrs. S. (coming to Sol.). Oh, Solomon, Solomon, can you 

ever forgive me ? 

(Sol. turns away. ) 

Lulu (coming to Brl, and speaking aside). Which room 
shall I put her in ? 



THE HOODOO 79 

Bri. In Hemachus* room. (^Down r.) 

Lulu. All right, I'm on. OH, you men, you men ! 

(^Crosses to l.) 

Mrs. S. For little Cheops* sake ! For the sake of little 
Osiris and Isis and Ptolemy and Hemachus and Eupepsia, for 
the sake of little Rameses — forgive me. {At c.) 

Eup. Father ! 

Hem. Father ! 

Sol. And you'll never suspect me again? 

Mrs. S. Never ! 

Sol. And you'll never doubt my word ? 

Mrs. S. Never ! 

Sol. Then I'll forgive you. 

(^Embraces her and childre7i m a bunch.) 

Lulu. Now, lady, I'll show you to the right room. It's 
across the hall from the other one. 

Mrs. S. Come, children ! Oh, Solomon, you see me in 
the dust, figuratively speaking, in the dust at your feet. 

(^Crosses l.) 

Sol. Oh, any one is apt to make a mistake. 

Mrs. S. And to think I mistrusted you ! Solomon, you 
are a king among men. 

[^Exit \..^ followed by children and Lulu. 

Sol. I believe it was all the fault of the scarab. 

Brl I seem to be having just as bad luck without it, as I 
had when I wore it. 

Sol. You found the missing property, and your money is 
safe. 

Brl Yes, but I haven't got rid of Dodo. 

Sol. Well, do so at once. Semiramis must have no further 
cause for suspicion. 

Brl You're right. I'll write Dodo a check for thirty 
thousand dollars, get my letters from her, and tell her to go. 
I hate to lose the money — hnX. I wouldn't have Amy learn the 
truth for twice the sum. (^Sits at desk a?id writes check.) 

Enter DoTiO from r. u. e. 

Dodo. Hello, boys. How's hubby? 

Sol. Don't call me hubby. What would Semiramis say ? 



8o THE HOODOO 

Dodo. I'm getting tired of all this comedy, Bright. Give 
me the money, take the letters, let me say. Luck to you ! and 
be on .my way. 

Bri. I'm writing your check now. 

Dodo. Thirty thousand dollars — remember I 

Bri. It's a pile of money for a few letters. 

Dodo. Yes, but these are such warm letters. 

Bri. Where are they ? 

Dodo. Right here. I never let them get away from me. 

Bri. Well, here's your check. 

{Starts to tear it from book.) 
Enter ^\\an from l., with overcoat ^ hat and grip. 

Billy. What are you doing. Bright ? 

Bri, Paying thirty thousand dollars to get rid of the Daz- 
zling Daisy. 

Billy. Oh, but that's not necessary now. 

Dodo. What do you mean ? 

Billy. You don't have to pay her a cent. 

Bri. {starti7ig tip). I don't? 

Billy. Not a red. 

Dodo. And since when did you get wise to our private 
affairs, Mr. Cupid Jackson ? 

Billy. About half an hour ago. 

Dodo. You mean ? 

Billy. You know what I mean. Half an hour ago I was 
behind that screen and heard all of your little conversation with 
the late Mr. Dun. 

Dodo. Dun ? 

Billy. Yes, you're done. And so is he. We've caught 
him, and he's made a full confession. 

Dodo. I'll sue you for a breach of promise, Mr. Brighton 
Early. 

Billy. You'll do nothing of the kind. When Brighton was 
carrying on his innocent little flirtation with you, you were a 
married woman. 

Bri. Married ! 

Billy. That's the word. This little dazzling daisy is the 
burglar's wife, and has been for the last eight years. 

Dodo. It isn't true. 

Billy. Oh, yes, it is. We've caught your husband. Do 
you want him to confront you ? 



THE HOODOO 8 I 

Dodo. Heavens, no ! 

Billy. Then the best thing for you to do is to catch the 
twelve-ten train back to the city. We might sue you for black- 
mail. 

Dodo. It was only a joke. (^Crosses to l.) I'll go at 
once. 

Billy. Wait and get your things. 

Dodo. Let me go. (^Throivs letters on floor.') There are 
your letters. You can't hold me now. 

Brl We don't want to. You just have time to catch the 
train. Good-night, and a pleasant trip. 

DoDO. You'll not file a complaint ? 

Brl Of course not. 

DoDO. Thank you. Good-bye, good-bye, forever. 

\^Exiti L. 

Billy. Professor, there goes the Dazzler. 

Sol. Thank heavens ! Now I'll see Semiramis and explain 
the whole thing to her. 

Billy. You'd better not. Let sleeping dogs lie. 

Sol. Probably that would be best. {Crosses to h.) What 
an exciting evening this has been. If my Semiramis knew the 
truth, I wonder what she would say. {Yawns.) My, but this 
has been an eventful day. {Crosses to l.) I think that I'll 
go up-stairs. 

Brl I think it would be the wiser plan to say nothing to 
your wife about Dodo. 

Sol. I suppose you are right. 

Brl If she ever suspected that you gave us your permission 
to call the Dazzling Daisy your wife 

Billy. What would Semiramis say? 

Sol. Good-night, young men. [Exit, l. 

Brl Good-night, Cousin Solomon. 

Billy. You've come out of all your troubles like a Phoenix. 
I wish I were as lucky. 

Brl Maybe I can straighten things out for you. I've been 
doing so much straightening out to-day that I feel like a pro- 
fessional. 

Billy. Nothing doing for me, I guess. Mrs. Perrington- 
Shine has put me out. I have my things all packed up and am 
ready to catch the twelve-ten. 

Brl I'm awfully sorry, old man. My wedding won't seem 
like a wedding at all, unless you are here to support my faint- 
ing form. 



82 THE HOODOO 

Billy. Sorry, but it can't be helped. 

Bri. Poor little Doris ! Do you know, Billy, I think that 
she really cares for you. 

Billy. No, she don't. Nobody cares for me now. Maybe 
some day she'll learn that I wasn't entirely to blame. 

Bri. Why don't you see her before you go ? 

Billy. 1 tried to, but she wouldn't let me. 

Enter Dor. from l., with traveli?ig coat, hat and suit-case. 
She stays at back unobserved. 

Bri. And, Billy, I think you really care about her. 

Billy. I know I do. If I can't win little Doris I never 
want to speak to another girl as long as I live. Why, Bright, 
when she heard that I was in trouble and had lost my money, 
she stood right up and said that she didn't care for the money. 
She said that she would marry me at once, and that we could 
save together. 

Bri. Then why on earth did you propose to Mrs. Clinger ? 

Billy. I don't know. The impulse of the moment, I guess. 
And I was wearing that scarab pin ; maybe that accounts 
for it. 

Bri. Didn't you fall in love with her, too? 

Billy. With Mrs. Clinger ? Never. I never saw a girl 
that I'd give a second thought to, except Doris. 

Dor. Billy ! 

Billy. Doris! You've heard? 

{Blue moonlight through window on Billy and Dor. ) 

Dor. Everything. 

Billy. And you believe me? You'll give me another 
chance ? 

Dor. The same old chance is open. I have always be- 
lieved in you, Billy. 

Billy. But Mrs. Perrington-Shine has ordered me to leave 
the house. 

Dor. I'm leaving, too. 

Billy. And you don't think that I'm the burglar? 

Dor. I knew all the time you weren't. The only thing that 
you steal is hearts. 

Billy. I wonder if I've stolen yours? 

Dor. It's always been yours. 

Billy. Doris, you're a darling ! 

(Soft waltz jnusic till tag.') 



THE HOODOO 83 

Bri. [coughing'). Children, please remember that I am 
present. 

Billy. I'll tell you what we can do. We'll elope. At 
once. Catch the twelve-ten, and get to the city in half an 
hour. I'll take you to my mother's, and in the morning — wed- 
ding bells for two ! 

Dor. Would it be right ? 

Brl Of course it would. Delays are dangerous. You've 
got only five minutes to catch the train. 

Dor. I'm ready. 

Billy. And so am I. Bright, you're all right. 

Bri. I said that I would straighten things out. 

Billy {shaking his ha?id wannly). Come over to-morrow 
morning to our wedding and be my best man. 

Bri. I'll do it. 

Enter A.UY from r. 

Amy. Bright ! 

Bri. Billy and Doris are eloping. 

Amy. For goodness' sakes ! Isn't it rather sudden ? 

Billy. Not at all. I've been in love with her ever since 
this afternoon. 

Bri. You've just time to catch the train. 

Amy. Doris, you dear ! (^Kisses her.) 

Billy. Amy, you and Bright be at the house by ten to- 
morrow. We want you to help us through. 

Amy. We'll be there. Give my love to your mother. 

BrLLY. } G°od-bye ! 

{They hurry out l.) 
B^' } Good-bye. 

Bri. If this hasn't been an eventful day I've never seen one. 
Amy. To-morrow will be another. In the morning we'll 
go to Doris' wedding. 

{Red firelight on Amy ^;z^Bri.) 

Bri. And in the evening we'll have one of our own. 
Amy. Good-night, then — until to-morrow. 
Bri. Good-night, beloved ! 

{They kiss as the curtain slowly descends.) 



CURTAIN 



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that reads like a novel. Acting rights strictly reserved for the present. 

Price, JO cents 

CLUB AND LODGE-ROOM ENTER- 
TAINMENTS 

For Floor or Platform Use 

Comprising: '• A Ribbon Race," any number, males and females; " A 
Variety Contest," any number, males and females ; '• The Shamrock Min- 
strels," four males, three females; " Apollo's Oracle," any number, males 
and females; " Plantation Bitters," nine males, eight females; "Gulliver 
and the Lilliputians Up-To-Date," ten males ; " Dame History's Peep- 
Show," any number ; •< The Broom Drill," sixteen characters, male or 
female or both. 160 pages. 

Price f 2 J cents 



Sent post-paid on receipt of price by 

Walter H, Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 

BOSTON, MASS. 



New Books of Dialogues 

THE CHILDREN'S VAUDEVILLE 

An Entertainment in Six Parts 

By Willis N. Biigbee 

For a large number of children of from six to twelve years of agCc 
Offers a simple vaudeville show comprising an overture and six acts, each 
"en minutes long. Easy, bright and pretty. Strongly recommended. 

Pricey 2 J cents 

CONTENTS 

Overture Juvenile Orchestra. 

PART I. — The Dumpling Brothers 

Comedy Acrobats, 
PART II. — Master Willie and Miss Susie Hopper 

Monologisis. 
PART III.~The Top-Notch Dancers 

Novelty Dance , — Ihe Sweet Surprises, 
PART IV. — The Lilliputian Concert Company 

So7ig Hits, — The Siiff' ring Gents, etc. 
PAR r V. — The Edna May Booth Company 

Sketch, — Room for One More. 
PART VI. — Lillian Henry and Russell Irving 

Illustrated Story, — Mrs. Grundy s Calendar, 

DANDY DIALOGUES FOR CHRISTMAS 

By Harriet Wilbur, and others 

Eleven pretty and effective dialogues appropriate to Christmas, well 
varied in length and character to suit all circumstances. Containing t 
A Christmas Dinner, Holly and Mistletoe, Father Christmas, Santa Clans 
(Alonologue), Offerings of the Year, Christmas Capers, Return of Mother 
Goose, Fairy Steeplecrown, Santa Claus at Home, Santa Claus the First, 
Bachelor's Christmas. 190 pages. 

Price, 25 cents 

BAKER'S PATRIOTIC DIALOGUES 

For All Grades 

By Edward D. Holmes 

A collection of school dialogues based upon well-known and popular 

■ncidents of American history. Six dialogues of various lengths, from five 

to thirty minutes, liistorically accurate as well as dramatic and patriotic, »* 

follows: 

The Boston Tea- Party. Our Nation's Birthday. 

The Capture of the British Sentinel The Evacuation of Boston. 

at Stony Point. General Gage and the Boston Boys. 

Ths Capture of Major Andre. 

Price, 2^ cen/i 



New Plays 
ONE OF THE EIGHT 

A College Comedy in Four Acts 

By Norman Lee Swartout 

Ten males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two easy in 
teriors. Plays a full evening. A first-class piece for college production by 
ihe author of" Half-Back Sandy," the story turning upon the event of the 
annual boat-race. All parts good ; strongly recommended. Can be 
played only by payment of a royalty of ^lo.oo to the author. 

Price, 25 cents 
m 

CHARACTERS 

Hek.iy Brooks. ** Mollie" Runskool, a freshman, 

Mr. Brooks, his father. Bill Carter. 

Lord Chillingworth. Professor Dixon. 

Peter, his valet. Mrs. Brooks, Henry's mother. 

Guy Marks, I. D. Helen Baldwin. 

Caleb Weston. Bab. 

Ned Andrews. Amy, the Professor's daughter, 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 

Act I. — Parlor in Henry's home at Redville, on New Year** 
flight. 

Act II. — Curiosity room in Delta Sigma Fraternity House, A 
aiorning in June. 

Act III. — Same as Act II. Afternoon. 

Act IV. — Same as Act II. Evening. 

THE POETS' CLUB 

By M. N. Beebe 

Eleven male characters. One act. Scenery unimportant ; costum.^s 
modern. Plays thirty-five minutes. A capital farce for boys, easy and 
effective. Characters include an Irishman, a Swede, a pugilist, a trnmi' 
a negro, a farmer and a " willy-boy." Strongly recommended. 

Price, 15 cents 



SEP 1^ I91S 



New Farces 



THE ELOPEMENT OF ELLEN 

A Farce Comedy in Three Acts 

By Marie J, Warren 

Four males, three females. Costumes modern ; scenery, one interior and 
me exterior. Plays an hour and a half. A bright and ingenious littk 
piay. admirably suited for amateur acting. Written for and originalJIy 
produced by Wellesley College girls. Strongly recommended. 

Price^ 2§ cents 

TOMMY'S WIFE 

A Farce in Three Acts 

By Marie y. Warren 

Three males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interioi^. 
Plays an hour and a half. Originally produced by students of Wellesley 
College. A very original and entertaining play, distinguished by abun- 
dant humor. An unusually clever piece, strongly recommended. 

Price t 25 cents 

ALL CHARLEY'S FAULT 

An Original Farce in Two Acts 

By Anthony E. Willi 

Six males, three females. Scenery, an easy mterior; costumes modern 
Plays two hours. A very lively and laughable piece, full of action and 
admirably adapted for amateur performnnce. Dutch and Negro comedy 
characters. Plays very rapidly with lots of incident and not a dull mo- 
ment. Free for amateurs, but professional stage rights are reserved by 
the anthor. Strongly recommended. 

PricCf 1$ cents 

OUT OF TOWN 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Bell Elliot Palmer 

fhree males, five females. Scene, an interior, the same for ?Si ^hre€ 
acts; costumes modern. Plays an hour and a half. A clever and inter 
esting comedy, very ensy to produce and recommended for amateur per 
ibrmance. Tons high and atnicsphere refined. Ail ihe ])arls g.ood. A 
^afe piece for a fastidious audience, as its theme and treatmens: xm aijlxK 
7€yjnd "-eproach. 

P»^i£€^ 23 ^€nii 



B* m* Pinero's Plays 

Price, 50 0ctit$ €acl) 



IVITn fH AWWFT ^^^^ ^" ^°^^ Acts. Six males, five females. 
l"*L'"^n"l*i»»-'" Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hom'S. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH SS" 'E^.Tt 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PROFIir'ATF Plf^yin Four Acts. Seven males, five 
1 nSu 1 IVvf r Liivirl 1 Em females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

Till? CPUnni MICTPI7CC Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
iflEi OV,nUULlylli31I\E.Oi3 seven females. Costumes, mod- 
ern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY ^i^r^SZ^^i 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

CWppT I A VFlVFiFR Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
OfTLiEii Lirl YJu 1^1/ El IV four females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a fuil evening. 

TU17 TUITWnFDnni T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
lIlEi inUl^lLyJCiIVOULii nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
*n»-« mWLO Scene. a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

THF WFAlfFP ^VY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
I riEi TT £i/\£vCiIV ii3£iA eight females. Costumes, modern ; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE ?r/,^I,i?,f^rfl„^£ 

Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Wnlttt H. ?iafeer Sc Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



''"liiiiiiiiiiir""" 



0^015 907 647 7r 



%mnt popular ^la^s 



lULi AVI Asi.L,i^^l^\^ tour males, six females. Scenery, uot difti- 
cult, chiefly interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 50 Cents. 

THE FRUITS OF ENUOBTENMENT g^T 'U™?" T„4%t 

one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- 
tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Recommended for reading 
clubs. Price, 35 Cents. 

HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR Sr"^ffi"J^'fJ^%?2 

males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 
Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

MinPAT Hfl^RAND Come^y in Four Acts. By Oscak Wilde, 
WLALt ilDiJUAiMf Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- 
ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reserved. Sold for reading. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEINtt EARNEST ItH" i? S^^f « 

Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two 
interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
served. Price, 50 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN %Z^'^i^1SSi.^lSr'& 

males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
eveuing. Acting rights reserved. Price, 50 Cents. 

NATHAN HAIF Play in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
11 A 1 llilli llALl^ males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- 
ing rights reserved. Plays a full eveuing. Price, 50 Cents. 

THP ftTHFR FFf TftW Comedy in Three Acts. ByM. B.Horke. 
lULt U111LI& ILULrUTT Six males, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors ; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THP TVDANNV Ap TPAO<J Comedy in Four Acts. By C. H. 
lUC linAilill vr lL,At\J Chambek.s. Four males, three fe- 
males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior ; costumes, modern. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE ^TI^Vimi^^'^A 

seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for 
reading only. Price, 50 Cents. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

5^alter 1$. isafeer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 

6. J. PARKHILL & CO.. PRINTERS, BQ^TQH- 



